


Shots

by samakiwi



Series: Are We Out of the Woods Yet? [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Derogatory Language, Emotional Constipation, F/F, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Fluff and Angst, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sex, Internal Conflict, M/M, Multi, Sexuality Crisis, Sibling Bonding, Slow Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:55:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 55,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1957476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samakiwi/pseuds/samakiwi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dude, Ian, just go already. Maybe it’ll land on one of these dudes and it’ll end up he’s super gay and you can fuck and call it a night,” Lip nudged Ian. </p>
<p>“Have you ever considered that maybe I don’t want a quick fuck?” Ian said back, sort of mad but drunk enough to not really care anymore.</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>Ian & Lip go to a frat party and meet Mickey & Mandy and the rest is history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Temporary Malfunction

The bass thumped through the air around Alpha Delta Phi, bodies grinding against each other inside the house and in the yard. Something techno that could be heard for blocks was playing, but as their car pulled up to the curb, the overwhelming fear of his first frat party coursed through Ian and the music had nothing to do with how fast his heart was racing. Obviously he’d been to parties before, but they were never this loud or this big and he was having a panic attack thinking about whether or not he should even be there.

“Dude, Ian. Chill out. It’s not bad, it’s like any other party you’ve been to. You’ll smoke some weed, drink until you’re drunk, and make out with guys you’ve never met. Then you’ll pass out somewhere until you get up to go home in the morning. Maybe we’ll even find you a good fuck. You look like you need it, bro,” Lip tried to calm his brother down.

“It’s not the same, Lip. All these people are college aged. The one age group I don’t really have much experience with,” Ian said frantically.

“It’s not going to be that bad. Who knows, maybe half the guys in there are power bottoms and you won’t even have to worry about looking for people to fuck,” Lip reassured him.

“Fine, you’re right. It won’t be that bad. And if it is, hopefully I drink enough to forget how bad it is,” Ian tried to laugh it off, getting out of the car and shutting the door in one quick, smooth movement.

“Exactly. Now come on, let’s go,” Lip said as he joined Ian on the his side of the car and threw his arm around his little brother. They both made their way towards the house in silent excitement. It wasn’t Lip’s first rodeo, and he was going to make damn sure his little brother had a great first frat party.

****  
  


\------

****  
  


“I swear you’ll like it, there are a ton of super hot chicks and a shit load of free booze!” Mandy screamed into Mickey’s ear just as the bass dropped on some techno bullshit that he wanted to run away from, literally. It felt like it was going to make his ears bleed it was so horrible. Cringe-worthy was what it was. But he had promised Mandy he’d be there in case some shithead she didn’t want near her came on to her.

All Mickey could do in reply was grunt loudly enough for her to hear it.

“Don’t act so fucking grumpy, asshole! Have a good time! Go straight for the keg if it’ll make you feel better! I’m going straight for the guys and the dance floor, but do whatever you want,” Mandy said. Mickey just rolled his eyes at her. “Come on, it’ll be fun! Maybe someone will ask you to dance.”

“I don’t fuckin dance, you know that,” Mickey yelled through the music in response.

“Well maybe tonight’s the night you learn, dickhead,” she yelled back, teasingly hitting her brother on the arm.

“No, I don’t think so, but thanks for trying,” Mickey said sarcastically.

“You never know unless you try! Just let it happen,” she said.

“If that’s your motto I’m gonna be on your hip all night,” Mickey joked. He knew that’s not what his sister meant, but she had to know that he was business.

“Fuck you, I’m gonna go dance. Go get some cheap beer for the both of us and don’t put them down anywhere. And I swear to fuck if you spit in mine I will kill you.”

****  
  


\---------

****  
  


“Hey! If you want to play spin the bottle we’re moving to the back of the house where it’s quieter,” someone yelled over the noise of the music. Lip recognized it as one of the frat members, Mike. He decided to find Ian because spin the bottle was always the best part of the party, no matter if you were twelve or twenty-five.

“Dude, spin the bottle, you’re coming with me,” Lip said as he grabbed Ian by the arm and dragged him towards the back of the party.

“Fuck you, I can walk by myself,” Ian shook Lip off of his arm and followed his brother to a large open common room at the back of the frat house. He admired his surroundings and silently wished his family could have a fucking beautiful house like this.

“Alright everyone sort of make a circle so this is easier and… dudes what the fuck, stop making out, wait until the game actually starts,” Mike says to two guys who were already apparently in love. Who knew why they were even in there.

Lip and Ian sat next to Mike in the circle, Lip right next to Mike, and Ian next to Lip.

“So this isn’t exactly normal spin the bottle; basically I’ll use this app and whatever it says, the two people have to do. Whoever the first people are to go have to… lick each other’s chests in front of everyone. Who wants to go first?” Mike asked.

“I’ll go,” Lip said, eyeing a couple girls in the circle. Ian just laughed at his brother.

“Alright, here ya go,” Mike said, handing the bottle over to Lip and winking at him. “Good luck, my friend.”

Lip made a show out of spinning the bottle by standing directly in the center of the circle to do so. It spun for a good thirty seconds before settling on a beautiful girl with dark black hair and subtle yet beautiful eyes. She didn’t stand out, but she was gorgeous, and Lip sort of actually felt bad about having to lick her chest even though she didn’t look innocent all. He walked over to her and helped her up off the floor.

“Hey,” he greeted her. “So you wanna go first, or do you want me to?”

“I will,” She said, slowly stripping off Lip’s shirt while the crowd, including Ian, watched on in awe. It was actually sort of turning him on, which isn’t really surprising because Lip was pretty sure it was turning half the other guys in the room on, too.

The girl traced her finger down Lip’s chest, teasing before she actually did anything. She slowly moved her mouth towards his chest, and when she licked his chest she did it painstakingly slowly, too. Her tongue worked it’s way from right under his pecs to his collarbone. Lip was pretty sure he heard half the people in the room moan, some of the moans coming from girls. He didn’t even try to hide his raging boner.

“Your turn, stud,” the girl said, stripping off her shirt to reveal her gorgeous body. Lip teased her, too, though, and let his tongue glide from her breasts to her collarbone as slowly as he could manage.

“Alright, you two, I think we’ve had enough of your teasing, now either fuck or pass the bottle on to someone else,” Mike said from across the circle.

Mandy made her way contently back to her seat next to a dark-haired boy that looked extremely similar to her, and Lip held back his look of disappointment when the girl didn’t just want to fuck right then and there. He sat back down, too, and let other people take over the game.

“Next people are seven minutes in heaven, lucky traditional shits,” Mike announced.

Some blonde girl’s spin landed on a red-headed girl, and they spent the next seven minutes in heaven making out behind closed doors. The next two, a douchey looking frat boy and a girl who looked like a playboy bunny, had to fuck, but that was allowed to take place in an upstairs bedroom while the game continued without them.

Two average-looking guys had to sing love songs to each other, but the catch was they had to sing it convincingly. Which took strength from both the guys because apparently they were so drunk that neither of them could even talk convincingly, let alone sing.

“Dude, Ian, just go already. Maybe it’ll land on one of these dudes and it’ll end up he’s super gay and you can fuck and call it a night,” Lip nudged Ian.

“Have you ever considered that maybe I don’t want a quick fuck?” Ian said back, sort of mad but drunk enough to not really care anymore.

“Sorry, dude, I thought that’s what you came here for,” Lip apologized.

“Actually I came here because you wanted me to and because it seemed important to you,” Ian explained, “And because I wanted free booze.”

“Well maybe if you spin the bottle you can find a nice dude who wants more than just a quick fuck. Or you can make out with a hot chick for the hell of it.”

On the other side of the room, the two guys were belting out “My Heart Will Go On” and grabbing each other’s faces desperately while their group of friends laughed their asses off.

“Mick, just spin the bottle or something for fuck’s sake. Don’t grumble and mope because you don’t want to be here or because I’m getting more action than you,” Mandy said desperately trying to get her brother to participate and have fun.

“Fuck off, Mandy. If it lands on me I’ll do it, if not I’m here for you anyway.”

“Alright, whatever you say,” she said as she put her arm around Mickey.

After the two guys were done belting their hearts out, Mike called, “The next two have to kiss for a minimum of 30 seconds in front of everyone!”

Ian hopped up to spin, and Lip almost cheered before realizing that his brother would probably sit down again if he did that. Ian spun the bottle and the amount of time it took to stop just felt awkward and uncomfortable to him in every way. Eventually when it did stop, he saw it landed in the same direction as Lip’s spin had. This time, though, it landed on the pretty girl’s menacing-looking brother (or who Ian assumed was her brother).  

The guy stood up and joined Ian in the center of the circle, throwing his sister an “I told you so” look. He walked up to Ian confidently and before Ian could even ask how he wanted to do it, the guy was kissing him, open mouth and everything. Ian hesitated at first, but quickly gave in to the kiss. The guy tasted good, whoever he was. Ian grabbed the back of the other guy’s head and kissed back harder. The guy slipped his tongue into Ian’s mouth, and it was definitely not an accident. Ian gladly accepted it, though.

**Someone yelled when the thirty seconds were up, but the guy didn’t let up and had now grabbed the back of Ian’s neck. The guy was aggressive, and Ian liked that. He liked it a lot, actually. After a minute and a half of making out and major tongue action, the guy pulled away from Ian gingerly then casually sat back down.**


	2. The Mystery of Man

“Holy shit.”

Ian stood in the middle of the circle completely shocked by what just happened. Obviously the kiss wasn’t shocking, it was what they were supposed to do. That was clearly not surprising, but everything else was. The length of the kiss, the ferocity of the kiss, even the fact that Ian didn’t have to initiate the kiss. The guy hadn’t even given Ian room to breathe; they were basically sharing air the whole time.

Ian was sure the guy didn’t even give off the vibe that he was into dudes. Well, he hadn’t before the kiss; now, Ian wasn’t so sure. It was probably the most spectacular kiss he’d ever had in his life. And he would use the word “spectacular” to describe it, too. It was like sparks literally flew from their lips, and he had never experienced anything like that before. It was amazing and awful at the same time, because he had no way of knowing if the guy was into him or not.

Lip winked at Ian from where he sat and Ian caught the wink in his peripheral vision before moving as calmly as possible, even though he was freaking the fuck out on the inside.

“Holy _shit_!”

Mandy said it so only Mickey could hear as he sat back next to her in the circle.

“What the fuck was that?” She asked, and only now could she see that Mickey was blushing majorly. No one but Mandy could see it, though, due to the dim lights. “I thought you were into girls, jackass! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

She hit him in the shoulder playfully, but actually seemed a little mad about it.

“I am into girls, Mandy,” Mickey said defensively. Probably more defensively than he should have, because Mandy was not having any of it.

“Bullshit, after that? There’s no way you’re into girls. Well at least not _only_ into girls,” she said, sure of herself.

“It was the game,” Mickey spat back. “It was for the game.”

“Dude, you only had to kiss him for thirty seconds, Mick. That was like a minute and a half of bliss from both of you. He’s totally gay and if you’re not you were really fucking convincing,” she laughed into his ear.

“Apparently I’m a good actor. Maybe I should get into the biz. Although my tats might fuck things up for me. And my rap sheet,” Mickey said, back in the joking mood.

“Whatever, douchebag, but if that wasn’t magic I don’t think I believe in magic anymore.”

\-----

****  
  


Mickey was definitely into guys. Or at least into this ginger god. Mandy couldn’t help but laugh at Mickey’s denial, but she wasn’t going to push it too hard. It’d be a different story if the kiss had happened somewhere other than the middle of a boozed circle of idiots at a frat party. She would push Mickey to admit it in other circumstances. Public wasn’t his thing, though. He’d never been one for affection in public.

For now, she would enjoy her brother’s “subtle” glances at the gorgeous ginger boy across the circle from them and take the opportunity to take in the boy’s gorgeous friend or brother or whoever he was. With the way things went tonight, she knew she’d never forget this frat party like she did with all the others. She hadn’t even had that much to drink, luckily, so she would remember licking that gorgeous boy’s abs later.

Mandy wondered how her brother was playing it so cool. She understood him not wanting to come off as gay, but what was the point in not freaking out about making out with someone that hot? If it was Mandy that just made out with another chick that was that fucking attractive, she would brag about it for weeks. She just assumed that she would never understand how any of her brothers’ brains worked.

After a while the sideways glances got tiring to Mandy, and she grabbed Mickey’s arm lightly.

“Hey, Mick, if you aren’t gonna fuck him or at least get his number or something can you stop with the whole glancing thing? It’s irritating,” She joked, talking next to his ear so he could hear her.

“What glancing? The fuck are you talking about?” Mickey said in return.

“Stop looking at your ginger prince over there if you aren’t going to make a move, asshat,” she clarified.

“Fuck you, Mandy,” he spat back to her.

“Well, we’re leaving, then. I’m bored, walk home with me? Unless you want to stay and make sweet, sweet love to firecrotch over there,” Mandy smirked at the nickname, but Mickey cringed.

“Yeah, we can go home,” Mickey rolled his eyes at his sister, standing up and helping her up from her spot.

The two of them made their way through the crowd, Mandy holding on to Mickey’s upper arm as he pushed his way through the crowd that had taken over most of the frat house, including stairways. The massive heap of sweaty bodies rubbed against Mickey which was super uncomfortable to him considering his outfit of bro tank and worn out shorts (he hadn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to wear and Mandy was no help). The crowd didn’t bother Mandy as much since she frequented these kinds of things. Mickey barely even went to clubs if he could help it, but occasionally Mandy would convince him he needed a night out and he’d go to please her.

Eventually their pushing got them through the crowd and onto the front lawn. It wasn’t as packed and it definitely was as energized out there, probably because most of the people on the lawn were high as fuck and Mickey and Mandy didn’t even have to smell it to realize it.

“Maybe we should hang with these guys for a while,” Mandy stopped Mickey with a hand to the chest, getting in front of him to stop him.

“Ya know, most nights I would say yes, but I don’t particularly want to be anywhere near here right now and I don’t really feel like making friends with these frat boys. Let’s go,” he grabbed her on the arm with enough force to pull her but not to actually hurt her. She definitely could have gotten free if she felt like arguing with Mickey, but she didn’t particularly want to because she was hoping the walk home would get him to tell her something about the kiss.

Mandy grabbed a joint out of some random guy’s hand on their way past and hoped that that would help with the prodding.

\------

****  
  


“Lip, I gotta find him. You don’t understand,” Ian shook Lip’s hand off of his bare leg and walked away, trying to not seem obvious about the whole thing. He’d given the guy and his sister or friend or whoever she was a head start, but he had to go after him. He had to. A kiss that good couldn’t mean nothing.

“Dude, fine, all right,” Lip said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “But a guy like that can’t be down for dating or anything so I don’t see the point.”

“Thanks for being so fucking supportive,” Ian said, leaving the circle and shoving his way through the crowd, looking over people to see if he could spot the guy. He couldn’t even remember what the guy was wearing. Hell, he couldn’t even remember what he was wearing at that moment. He just knew he had to find him.

Ian caught a glimpse of the guy’s sister and tried to make his way towards them, but as soon as he tried he lost sight again. He started to think it was useless, which apparently it was. By the time he made it through everyone and to the front lawn, he couldn’t find them anywhere. He even asked a couple of the stoners if they had seen two beautiful people with pitch black hair and pale skin leave, but none of them were coherent enough to remember even if it was literally a minute ago.

Giving up was his best option at that point, so he did. He remembered seeing someone that used to go to school with him who was probably Lip’s age and decided to join them. Getting stoned would hopefully make him forget he may have lost the opportunity of a lifetime. He decided to pull the innocent high school kid routine since it was the easiest way to get free pot.

“Hey guys,” he said as he walked up to the group of frat boys. “I’ve never had pot before, and I was wondering if you’d let me try some?”

“Hell yeah, dude, here ya go,” some dude, who was obviously high as a kite already, said.

“Thanks,” Ian said, grateful that that worked. Sometimes college kids were greedy with their drugs.

“No problemo, carrot top. Let’s take a seat, boys,” the frat boy said right as he was about to fall over. He must have been super drunk, too. He sat and everyone followed suit, including Ian who was still holding the joint and didn’t plan on giving it up any time soon.

\-------

“So,” Mandy said after a couple blocks of walking, taking a hit from the joint she had stolen from the poor guy at the party. “About that kiss.”

“What the fuck about it? I thought we covered this at the party,” Mickey said aggressively, now just irritated.

“No we fucking didn’t! We were surrounded by people, there’s no way you told me the truth in there,” she said, passing the joint to Mickey who surprisingly took it and took a long drag from it.

“Yes we did. It was a kiss and that was that. Nothing more to it. It’s not like kissing a dude is the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” Mickey said more calmly now that he could feel a nice high coming on.

“What?!” Mandy practically shrieked. “What else have you done?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s what,” Mickey answered. Not like he was going to tell her about his weird sexual adventures or strange masturbation stories. When did that become her business? Never, and it was never going to.

“Okay well if it wasn’t weird, then what was it? Because it looked pretty _passionate_ to me,” Mandy said, throwing her arm over Mickey’s shoulders and smiling the devilish ‘come on I’m your sister you can tell me’ smile.

“Normal, I guess? Like any other kiss I’ve had, Mandy. It was just, normal. That’s all,” Mickey said, shrugging Mandy off of him.

“Just normal? I call bullshit on that, big bro. Total and utter bullshit. I fucking saw that blush you got. You can’t kiss some sexy guy at a frat party in a dimly room in front of everyone, blush like it was your first kiss ever, then tell me it was just a plain old normal fucking kiss.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Mandy?!” He was furious now, and the pushing was just making it worse. Mickey couldn’t get the kiss out of his fucking head and he was never ever going to admit that to anyone, especially not Queen Mandy Milkovich who thought she had the privilege - maybe even the right - to tease him about any person he’s ever been with or anything he’s ever done. No fucking way.

“Do you want me to say it was the best fucking kiss I’ve ever had? Do you want me to say that sparks flew and I think we’re fucking soul mates? Because it isn’t, it didn’t, and I don’t. I don’t know how much more you want from me if I know I can’t give you what you clearly want.”

“Jesus christ, Mickey. I’m sorry,” Mandy looked extremely shocked by Mickey’s outburst. “Hell if I knew you felt that strongly about it I wouldn’t have pushed. Fuck.”

She had backed away while Mickey yelled (it was always better safe than sorry to be far away when a Milkovich had an outburst), but she approached him again now and put her arm around his waist. He tried to twist away from her but when her grip tightened he allowed her to keep her arm there.

“I just want you to know that you can tell me this shit when dad’s not around, Mick. Terry is a prick and I don’t blame you for not doing certain things around the house, but with me it’s fine. You’re the only person I’ve ever actually trusted and loved and I know you’d accept me for anything I’ve done, and I need you to know that it’s the same for you with me,” Mandy said, and the speech made Mickey feel obligated to stop and pull his sister into a hug. He wasn’t going to cry (he wasn’t a fucking pussy), but it did mean a lot to him.

“Thanks, Mandy,” Mickey said, taking another hit from the joint that was now almost gone and handing it to his sister.

They walked for a while in silence with their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, taking in the beautiful silence of Chicago at night. The walk from the university to their house was a really long one, but it was nice to just take in the quiet air and the noises of traffic and trains. After a while Mickey’s high really kicked in and he felt more confident like he usually did, but this time it was different.

“That was the first time,” Mickey’s words echoed through the silence despite how quietly he was talking.

“The first time for what?” Mandy asked, confused.

“It was the first time I’ve ever kissed a guy,” Mickey explained.

“I’m not surprised,” Mandy said, not wanting to add her other thoughts to that statement.

“I am,” Mickey said.

“What? Why?”

“It felt really fucking good, that’s why. Do you think I could be gay? Or fucking bisexual or some shit?”

“I don’t know, Mick, that’s not really for me to figure out,” Mandy replied. She really wanted to say ‘I told you so’ but this was going so well that she didn’t want to ruin it.

“What the fuck,” Mickey said, phrased more like a statement than a question.

“So was the kiss… did it mean something?”

“No. I mean, I don’t know. It was some random dude at a frat party who I’ll probably never see again. But it felt different than all the chicks I’ve kissed. Fuck, I’m high as hell right now. I don’t know what I’m saying,” Mickey sighed loudly as he said it.

“Well at least now you know you could be gay or ‘fucking bisexual or some shit’. That’s something to remember.”

“I guess.”

“I’ll have to find you some dude to fuck or something. We’ll figure this shit out, Mick. Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks, Mandy. By the way, you’re the only one I’ve ever trusted, too.”

\-----

Lip wasn’t actually surprised when he found Ian out on the yard with a group of stoned idiots. Idiots he had graduated with, in fact. He also didn’t know why Ian was so hung up on this random dude. Maybe it was the atmosphere of his first frat party or maybe it was that he hadn’t gotten any since his fuck buddy from school moved away, but Lip just wasn’t getting it. And he hoped he wouldn’t have to understand it and that Ian would just move on, but if he didn’t he knew he’d also have to be there to support him. Which was why he wanted to try to convince him to move on.

“For fuck’s sake, Ian,” he said, crouching to talk to his brother who was almost passed out laying on the lawn. The smell of weed wafted off of the people in the yard and Lip hoped Ian didn’t have much to do with that. Not that he cared if Ian got high, but that’s one hell of a waste of a good frat party. “How high are you?”

“Heeeeyyy, Lip! Look at those stars, Lip. Aren’t they beautiful? Look at them,” Ian said, reaching up to slap Lip’s face and attempting to get him to look up.

“Fuck, Ian,” Lip said, removing Ian’s sweaty hand from his face.

“Hey, I have a question for you,” Ian said, sitting up and making sure he was eye level with Lip. “Did you catch the name of that guy or his friend or sister or whoever she was?”

“What guy? Who’s sister?”

“That guy, the one I kissed earlier during spin the bottle,” Ian clarified, his bloodshot eyes looking at Lip with hope. “Or his sister person, the one who licked you really, really slowly. Did you catch their names or like last name or something?”

“No, but that’s kind of the point of spin the bottle,” Lip answered. Ian’s eyes filled with disappointment. “Hey, Ian, don’t worry about it. It was fun and all but you probably won’t see him again and who even knows if he’s into you.”

Someone from the circle of people passed Ian another joint, but Lip immediately snatched it from Ian’s hand and took a hit.

“Just go back into the party, find yourself a guy, connect with him or whatever you want, and have a good time tonight. Don’t dwell on the past, little brother,” Lip tried pulling some guru shit out of his ass, and he hoped Ian bought it. He got up and straightened himself out. “I’m off, the ladies await.”

Lip left his brother there and went off to have his own fun. He couldn’t help but worry that Ian was going to get hung up on this guy, though. After seeing him like that he was actually beyond worried, but the booze and weed buried the feeling. He passed out thinking that if he had anything to do with it, Ian would be over this guy as soon as possible. Not that he would remember thinking that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked chapter 2!:)


	3. Impossible Coincidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used Holland Roden as a basis for my new character Skylar, so if you want to you can use her as a reference for the character! :)

“I just can’t stop thinking about it, Sky. I’m sure you understand.”

Ian was sitting in one of the local coffee shops - a place called ‘The Brewery’, which Ian always suspected was named that to trick drunkards to come in - with his best friend of several years, Skylar. She was beautiful and had red hair like Ian’s, although she insisted it was more of a strawberry blonde even though everyone knew that wasn’t true. Skylar actually looked more like she could be Ian’s sister than Fiona or Debbie did, apart from her hazel eyes. She wouldn’t really fit in in the South Side if it weren’t for her sailor mouth, attitude, and insane amount of piercings. She had to have at least 12 piercings by Ian’s last count; her left eyebrow, her nose, her belly button, four on one ear and five on the other. Apart from that, she wore clothes that looked like hand-me-downs from people who actually had money and she was a total genius.

It was strange how she and Ian even crossed in the right path to end up becoming best friends, but it happened. And there, five years later, they were still best friends. They went through a hell of a lot of shit together, including Ian’s realization that he was gay. And that was the least of everything they went through. Apart from his siblings, Skylar was the only one that Ian fully trusted with intimate details of his life.

“Oh, trust me, Ian, I understand fully. But you know how my relationships turn out. We fuck for a couple weeks and then I realize the dude is a fucking piece of shit and I kick him the fuck out. But I’m positive that this guy won’t be a piece of shit. Hell, if he knows what’s good for him he won’t dare be an asshole while I’m alive and well. Fuck, maybe even if I’m not well. I’d kill any man that hurt you, honey,” Skylar ranted.

If there was one thing Ian could consider Skylar a well-versed expert in, it’d be talking your ear off about anything and everything. But it was okay, because it was something he loved about her. Her speeches could keep him interested and distracted from whatever he was thinking about any time, but when he needed advice she would let him get a word in and would listen and be helpful. She was basically the perfect best friend, and he was yet to find a hamartia

“Well that has nothing to do with me not being able to stop thinking about the kiss, but okay,” Ian laughed at his friend and took a sip of his caramel macchiato.  

“Oh damn it, I thought that was relevant enough that you wouldn’t question it. I’ve been thinking about that speech for days and I needed to slip it in there somewhere. Tell me all about this gorgeous guy again. I need a detailed description this time,” she pushed her coffee (which she took with nothing, not even milk) aside and rested her chin in her hand, looking at Ian with curiosity and eagerness.

“You want the whole story? From the beginning? Like, all the details?”

“Everything you have told me already, and everything you haven’t. I know we haven’t been able to have a heart to heart in a while and I’m sorry it took skipping class to get together, but once shouldn’t mark your record too bad, should it? You won’t get kicked out of ROTC or anything?”

“No, it’s not that big of a deal. Plus I can probably just have Fiona call in and tell them I was sick or something. Remember, she got custody when Frank went to jail for child abuse and like twenty other things.”

“Of course, how could I forget. I just wanted to check.”

“Okay, the story. Basically, Lip dragged me along to this frat party that I thought was going to be really stupid because I always hear about how dumb frat parties are and how it’s just a bunch of douchey guys trying to get laid. I was almost sort of nervous about it because Lip kept saying that I could find a guy but I was pretty sure that none of them would be interested in someone who looks so young. I had no idea if any of the guys there were even gay or if they were just drunk and horny.”

“Hon, guys would be crazy not to go nuts over you. Girls, too. I would be all over you if you weren’t my best friend,” she started, then realized she shouldn’t ramble on. “Right, okay, go on.”

“I was drinking the free booze at a steady pace for the first half an hour and people were dancing and making out and I just wasn’t feeling any of it, so I stayed by the alcohol for a little while longer until Lip found me. He told me we had to play spin the bottle and I think he said something about it being the best game ever, but that could have been the alcohol talking even though I didn’t have that much. It was pretty loud in there.

We all got into a big circle in the back common room thing, like I told you before, and this dude told us the rules and everything. Then Lip volunteered to go first and he… well, I can probably skip that part.”

“No, no, please, tell me everything. I asked for everything, I expect everything, Gallagher,” Skylar urged. Her interest had peaked at the mention of Lip, and Ian hadn’t even noticed.

“Alright, then. Well, Lip and this girl - the one I assume is my guy’s sister - had to lick each other’s chests and they were super into it and she fucking teased him, it was actually sort of hilarious. He was hard as a fucking diamond and didn’t even care about hiding it. If I was into that shit and it wasn’t my brother it would have been totally hot, but I couldn’t stop laughing.

Anyway, after a while of watching the game Lip convinced me to spin the bottle and then the whole kiss and everything happened and I can’t stop thinking about it. Fuck, Skylar. It’s been weeks. Literally weeks. Why can’t I get over that stupid kiss? It was just one fucking kiss,” Ian was exasperated by the end of the story, and was basically wallowing in self-pity.

“Don’t spare me the details, Ian. I need to know what it was like. Not just ‘did he fuck your mouth with his tongue’, but ‘did it feel like magic’ and ‘were sparks flying’ and all that shit. _Describe_ it to me, dude. Use descriptive words.”

“It was the best fucking kiss I’ve ever had, and that’s the problem. It’s cheesy as hell but sparks literally flew. Like, I swear to god my lips were on _fire_. He was so aggressive and passionate and _perfect_. Goddamn perfect, Sky. Like he was sent from the heavens. A goddamn angel was what he was. And I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m getting fucking butterflies. Gallaghers don’t get butterflies, they get horny. Not fucking ‘I’m in love with you’ butterflies after one stupid kiss at some frat party. He was probably too wasted to remember it anyway, judging from the way he took charge like that. You’d have to be drunk or stupid to be that confident. _Ugh_.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard you swear that much in the span of two minutes before during our entire five years of friendship. Holy shit. He must have been damn good. I’m sorry, Hon,” Skylar crossed to Ian’s side of the table and sat in his lap with her arms around his neck. It was something she’d started doing to comfort him about anything major since she found out he was gay. No one questioned it because everyone always assumed they were siblings, so Ian just accepted the warmth of Skylar’s arms around him.

“He was.”

The two of them sat in silence for a couple minutes until Skylar jumped a little at Ian’ sudden intake of breath.

“Holy fucking shit,” Ian said at a volume only Skylar could hear.

“What is it?” She asked, looking in the direction Ian was looking. She couldn’t tell who he was looking at out the front window.

“That’s him. That’s the guy. Holy shit. Do not move. Please do not get off my lap,” Ian said, his breathing sounding ragged and shallow like he was about to start hyperventilating. “Fuck, I’ve been trying to get over him and now he just shows up at our coffee shop during the school day?”

“Oh my god, which guy is he? The shorter one with black hair?” She only asked because there were two guys in close proximately talking somewhat aggressively and she wanted to make sure she was remembering right. The other guy looked like he could have been a brother of the dude Ian had googly eyes for.

“Yeah, him. Hold on, don’t move,” Ian confirmed.

“Don’t move?! Are you fucking kidding me?! Get off your ass and go talk to him! Get his name at least, you idiot!” Skylar whispered harshly, jumped off of Ian’s lap, and slapped him on the arm.

“What? No!” Ian said, trying to maneuver himself so that he was still hidden behind Skylar.

“Fucking aye, Ian! Get your ass up!” Skylar pulled him out of the chair. Luckily, this coffee shop had much more violent occurrences and the customers didn’t seem to mind the disruption.

“Fine, fine! I’m going!” Ian got up and made his way slowly to the door and outside. The mystery guy was on the other side of the street and Ian stood as nonchalantly as he could outside of the shop until the guy’s friend left.

Mystery man crossed the street and positioned himself outside of another store down the street, and Ian watched closely as he did so. When he felt it was not weird, Ian walked towards the guy. The guy gave Ian a look that said he recognized him, but didn’t acknowledge the familiarity with words.

“Hey! You were at the Alpha Delta Phi party the other night, weren’t you?” Ian starts the conversation. _So much for small talk_ , he thought.

“Yeah, so?” the guy said, looking seemingly anywhere but at Ian. “You mind moving, you’re in my fucking way.”

“You aren’t even moving, how am I in your way?”

“You just fucking are, okay?”

“No, not okay. I’m trying to talk to you here.”

“Well I’d rather you not try to talk to me, and move out of my fucking line of sight.”

“I don’t think I will,” Ian’s sass levels were sky-rocketing. He wondered why he liked this guy, or if he even still did.

“Fine, get the fuck out of my way then,” the guy said, pushing past Ian and making his way down the street in the opposite direction of the coffee shop.

“But wait,” Ian said, a pleading tone in his voice.

“The fuck do you want?” the guy asked, turning and stopping to look at Ian.

“At least tell me your name?” Ian asked, looking the guy directly in the eyes.

“Fuck off is my name, don’t wear it out,” the guy said, flicking Ian off and going on his way.

Ian couldn’t help but smirk. The guy was actually exactly how he imagined him to be. Totally closeted, pretending he didn’t know Ian, and super aggressive in his mannerisms and speech. Exactly how Ian wanted him to be. Ian liked a challenge, and this guy was not going to get away from him.

\----

“What the fuck was I thinking?”

Mickey muttered to himself as he walked, putting more and more space in between him and that stupid kid. He was mad at himself for not taking the coincidence as an opportunity to figure out who the guy was. Whoever he was, he could have helped Mickey figure his sexuality out. At least he’d be more helpful than Mandy would be. Not that he really wanted to involve himself in any type of relationship, but he needed to know why he felt how he did.

He really hated not knowing why he felt the things he felt. It felt like some outside force was controlling his emotions, and he despised it. Milkoviches always controlled their own feelings, and not being in control was making him question everything he’s ever believed.

Mickey walked home with a cloud of regret hanging over him, and he wondered why he hadn’t even told the dude his name. It was understandable why he hadn’t asked for the dude’s name, but why hadn’t he given the dude his? He shook it off and he spent the rest of the evening laying in bed wondering what the fuck was wrong with him recently.

That damn kid was going to give him an aneurism, but he couldn’t stop his feelings so he let them sink into him and consume him for now. But only for now, tomorrow they would stop. He promised himself he would get himself in control. Tomorrow.

**It’d definitely be tomorrow, because it sure as hell wasn’t tonight.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed chapter 3! :) <3 Chapter 4 will be up soon!


	4. I Know What This Is

“Seriously, it was fucking spectacular. I would literally use the word spectacular.”

Ian sat in his bed, leaning against the wall, telling Lip the story for the hundredth time. The kiss was magical and all that shit. It was the same thing every time, but Lip put up with it because he knew thinking about this guy made his brother light up. Anything that made Ian happy made him happy, because seeing his family happy was the best thing in the world.

Whenever their world was turned upside down by Frank, or that one time when Karen Jackson claimed Lip was the father to her child after them hooking up a few times in the school bathrooms, or anything else, the occasional smiles of the Gallagher family were the only things that kept any of them sane. It kept Lip sane because he knew his efforts to succeed would mean his family could be happy.

So he listened to Ian repeat the story again, and his advice was always the same when the story was finished.

“It was just a kiss, Ian,” Lip said, rolling his eyes and smiling at his brother.

“Yeah, but,” Ian started.

“Look I’ve kissed dudes when I was drunk, too,” Lip interjected. Ian’s jaw dropped. Lip had never revealed this little tidbit before.

“Holy shit, Lip! Why didn’t you tell me?” Ian smiled at the thought of his brother kissing guys. That’s something he would have to know details about to believe.

“Because I knew you’d freak out and want to know details and I barely remember it to begin with!”

“Well you’re right, I want details! You said ‘dudes’. As in plural. Either there have been multiple drunken nights where you kissed one dude or you went all-out gay at one party,” Ian was in shock, but it was a sort of blissful shock. Hilariously shocking, was what it was.

“I’m going to say multiple drunken nights and leave it at that. That’s all the detail you’re getting. The point I’m trying to make here, fuckhead, is that kissing guys doesn’t mean anything if you’re a straight dude. So I just don’t want you to get your hopes up, okay?” Lip said it in a way that Ian knew meant ‘this is your daily dose of brotherly advice, take it or leave it’.

“I can’t help but get my hopes up, you stupid fucker,” he didn’t mean it to sound harsh, but it did. “You didn’t feel it like I did. You know when stupid fucking books and movies and tv shows and shit all talk about finding ‘the one’? Well I could have very well found that fucking cliche in a dude at a random frat party, okay?”

“Oh, shit, Ian. You didn’t just actually tell me that you think this dude - whom you have kissed once and ran into once since then - is ‘the one’. Jesus christ, you have your head in the clouds, don’t you? I can’t stop you from thinking about him but I can advise you not to. Which is exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Shut the fuck up, Lip. I haven’t felt like this with any of the other guys I’ve been with, okay? It’s different in a good way and I don’t fucking know why. And it had nothing to do with the shit at the party because I barely drank anything and I didn’t smoke the weed until after I kissed him.”

“If I’m being honest with you, there was something about that dude’s sister that I was particularly fond of, too. Not saying she’s ‘the one’ for me but she was a fucking babe and she got me hard in record time. And that’s impressive. But I’m over it. I know when to give up, baby bro. It’s been weeks. You should move on. Find another guy who will share his feelings with you or whatever the fuck it is you want.”

“I don’t think I can, Lip. I need to know more about this guy. I’ll try, though. I promise I will.”

****  
  


\--------

“That’s a load of bullshit, huh?”

Skylar laughed as Ian told her everything Lip had said. They laid in Skylar’s bed - it had pink sheets which Ian could never get over - on their backs in opposite directions with their heads resting on their clasped hands. Skylar’s legs rested over Ian’s stomach and he could feel it when she laughed.

“Total bullshit. I told him I’d just try to move on, but there’s no fucking way. No fucking way. My heart stopped when I saw him outside The Brewery. I can’t believe Lip would keep trying to convince me to ‘just get over it’ when he’s heard the story half as many times as you’ve asked for it. Which is a lot, by the way,” Ian laughed, too. Obviously he wasn’t going to try to get over it, he was going to try to find this man of mystery. And Skylar was all for helping him. She couldn’t believe that Lip would say that, either.

“He’s smart, he should know better than to tell you to get over it,” Skylar added.

“Sky, I told Lip that this guy might be ‘the one’. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you, honey. Except maybe your brain,” Skylar laughed and Ian retaliated by rolling onto his side and tickling her feet. She burst into a fit of giggles and screamed at Ian to stop.

“Is everything okay up there, Sky?” Skylar’s mom yelled up, concerned with with the way she was screaming.

“Everything’s fine, mom! Ian and I are just having sex!” Skylar yelled while Ian held back little giggles.

“Oh, sorry, honey, I’ll leave you to it. Use protection!” her mom yelled back up.

Skylar and Ian erupted into full-blown laughter. They were both laughing so hard they were practically crying by the time they finally calmed down.

“Use protection? You’re mom is so fucking naive!” Ian said through more laughter.

“Perks of living with a mom who doesn’t even know who my dad is?” Skylar joked.

“I can’t believe she hasn’t realized that I’m gay yet. Does she even know that we’re not dating? Does she think you’ve just been fucking me this whole time?”

“I honestly have no idea, but I hope so because that shit is fucking hilarious. I love my mom. Where do you think I got my personality? South Side attitude is more of a biological trait in my family. Got nothing to do with the way I was raised. Although I probably would have ended up this way anyway if that were the case. Point being, I’m glad my mom is not a Frank.”

“I’m glad your mom is not a Frank, too. I’d prefer if Frank was just a manwhore and not an idiotic drunk who thinks neglect is a good thing.”

“Enough about how dumb our parents are, tell me the story again,” Skylar rearranges herself so that she is laying on Ian’s chest, head resting on the backs of her hands.

“Fucking aye, not again.”

“Again, Ian,” Skylar demanded, her hazel eyes trying to pierce Ian’s soul, apparently.

“Well basically we met at the party, were playing spin the bottle while drunk, kissed, I chased after him, he had already gotten too far, I got high and then don’t remember much of the rest of the night.”

“Thanks a lot, asshole. I could have summarized it like that for myself. I wanted the actual shit. The shit that counts.”

“Well I’m tired of telling you that.”

“Fine, tell me how you felt when you saw him the other day.”

“I’ve told you that a billion times, too.”

“Fuckin’ tell it, Gallagher, or I’ll start screaming again and my mom can go around telling her slutty friends about how her daughter is fucking the red-headed step kid of Frank Gallagher. It’ll shove you so far back in the closet you’ll be in Narnia chilling with Aslan.”

“First of all, your threats don’t scare me. Second of all, I’m not his step kid. I’m technically not his child at all.”

“Praise jesus for that one. Now tell it.”

“Fine. I guess I felt… I felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest. That’s how they describe it in the movies. It was like.. the fucking butterflies again. Only this time worse because it was in the daylight and he was in his normal clothes instead of weird douchey frat party clothes. Basically, it felt like I was meant to bump into him again. I swear, Sky, seeing him again… it was like fate.”

\---------

The bed creaked as Mandy jumped on top of her brother, who was lying face down with his face in his hands. Mickey was stressing out about everything and anything and Mandy just wanted him to talk to her.

“Come on, dipshit, don’t act like this. You’re the one that asked me to help you. I know I’m ‘not helpful’ when it comes to all that homo stuff, but I found you a dude and now you’re gonna go take it in the ass from the dude or give it to him or whatever the fuck you want to do because he’s down for anything. I swear to god, Mickey, if you don’t take this wonderful opportunity that your amazing sister set up for you I will kill you. And then you’ll never get to have great sex with a smoking hot guy. So get up,” Mandy laid on top of Mickey, saying this in his ear so Terry didn’t hear.

“Are you fucking nuts, stop saying this shit when Terry is in the house!” Mickey moved so his sister would fall off of him and sat up, angry.

“You’re kidding, right? He’d sleep through a fucking avalanche after last night. If we’re lucky he won’t wake up this time,” Mandy pointed out.

“Well still, just fucking don’t.”

“Alright, I won’t,” she said with a serious face, but it wasn’t long before a smile broke out. “But it got you up, didn’t it?”

“Fuck you!”

“Get ready, I need to get you to this guy’s humble abode before he decides to charge extra.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! He’s a fucking whore? What the fuck, Mandy. No, I’m not going,” Mickey was just frustrated now.

“Relax, you idiot. It was a joke. Now put something nice on, he’s somewhat respectable,” Mandy punched Mickey in the shoulder, urging him to get ready to go.

“Respectable? Make up your mind. Is he a whore or a millionare?”

“In the middle?”

“Jesus christ, Mandy, I hate you so much.”

“You’ll love me after he fucks you. Or you fuck him. After you fuck. You’ll love me. He’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Whatever.”

“It’s true! And maybe being with him will help you figure out who you are,” Mandy said as she sat on Mickey’s bed, throwing her arms around him. He didn’t return the hug, but didn’t shake her off either.

“Fuck you, I know who I am,” he said softly.

**“Do you?” She looked him the eye. “I mean, do you really?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed chapter 4! :) Feel free to leave comments/kudos :)


	5. The Milkoviches

Ian was stacking shelves when he saw the mystery man from the party, this time. He was at his part-time afterschool job - the “Kash N Grab”, a local convenience store that should have just been called “Grab” since no one ever seemed to actually pay - when he spotted the guy through the window.

“Shit,” Ian said, sprinting towards the storage room in the back. He slammed and locked the door behind himself before the guy entered the store. Linda and Kash, the store owners, stared after him but figured there was a good reason he was locking himself in the back room. Ian typically had a pretty good reason for most of the things he did.

Ian watched as the guy grabbed things from the freezers, stock-still and nervous as fuck. He always looked so stupid when he was wearing his work clothes. He had no idea why that was what he cared about, but it was. A moment later, the guy disappeared around the corner and Ian slid against the door and fell to the floor.

“Oh my god,” he muttered to himself.

Linda and Kash didn’t hide from the guy, though. Kash wanted to. He definitely wanted to. He was a wimp when it came to dealing with the neighborhood punks, but Linda forced him to sit there and deal with it because she hated seeing him be such a pussy. Bad enough she found out her husband was gay when she caught him taking it up the ass from the kid that used to work at the Kash N Grab, but he was a damn idiot when it came to anything having to do with the store and he couldn’t even shoot a gun without nearly pissing himself.

Ian’s mystery man finished grabbing the stuff he needed and actually placed it on the counter, which surprised the hell out of both Linda and Kash.

“A Milkovich paying for something? Didn’t know you were capable of it,” Linda says sarcastically.

“Yeah, well a Milkovich pays his debts. And in this case it means paying for this shit and apologizing for his douchey father,” the man looked apologetic, actually, but still sounded sarcastic. Ian had returned to eavesdropping and laughed silently to himself at the Game of Thrones reference that he only picked up because of Skylar’s constant quoting of it. She always insisted the actual quote was “A Pierson always pays their debts,” but Ian didn’t believe of word of that bullshit. Replacing it with her last name was why Ian always remembered that particular quote. He thought it was weird that this guy knew Game of Thrones. Definitely didn’t look the type.

“You’re not your father, you shouldn’t have to apologize for him,” Linda replied, looking at the guy with that motherly look that means business.

“I know, but he should at least steal from our neighborhood,” the guy clarifies.

“I’m still surprised you’re paying for this,” Kash added. His input broke the guy’s nice streak, apparently.

“Fuck off,” Mickey said, slamming the money down on the counter and leaving with his food.

When Ian was sure the guy was gone he emerged from the back room, straightened himself out, then went back to the front of the store. When he approached, Linda and Kash both just stared at him like he was nuts.

“What was that all about?” Linda asked, a questioning but not quite threatening look on her face.

“Do you know that guy?” Ian asked, ignoring Linda’s question.

“Yeah, why?” Kash responded with sass, but Linda gave him a look and he shut up again.

“He’s a Milkovich kid,” Linda offered.

“What’s his first name?”

“Mickey, I think.”

“Okay, thanks,” Ian said, then turned to go back to work.

“Are you in trouble?” Linda asked, concerned.

“Far from it, actually. But thanks, Linda.”

\-------

“You’ll never fucking believe it.”

Ian was sitting on his bed in his room, leaning against the wall with his head tilted back staring at the ceiling and holding the family cell phone to his ear. Skylar was on the other end of the line basically trying to make Ian go deaf with her screaming.

“What?! Ian! Tell me!!”

“Will you hold on a minute? You didn’t even give me a chance to talk!”

“Fucking tell me!”

“I figured out mystery man’s name! I told you I would figure it out.”

“I didn’t doubt your abilities… now what’s the unfortunate fucker’s name?”

“Mickey. Mickey Milkovich,” Ian said into the phone. It was the first time he’d said it out loud. The name of the person he loved after one fucking kiss. He blushed when he said it, and couldn’t keep the goofy, wide grin off of his face. It was a damn good thing Lip wasn’t home, because he’d definitely make fun of Ian if he saw him like this.

“Oh,” Skylar said into the phone, her excitement dropping. “Damn, that is unfortunate.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Ian said, now mad that Skylar would act like that when he was so excited.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Ian. It’s just… I’ve heard bad things about the Milkoviches. Like, really bad things,” she said regretfully.

“Like what? It can’t be that bad. It’s not like our families have spotless records,” Ian was still fuming.

“I heard their dad is a homophobic prick, for one. He almost killed some guy because the dude told him to suck his dick in a heated argument. He’s been in and out of jail more times than anyone I’ve ever heard of without having a life sentence. Rumor is he got his daughter pregnant. He’s super violent and a major drunk. He’s worse than Frank and that’s saying something,” Skylar explained.

“So nothing about Mickey?” Ian said through gritted teeth. He already hated the dad, but obviously Mickey was nothing like his dad. The apology to Linda at “Kash N Grab” was sincere. It seemed like he hated his dad, too. Or at least hated his behaviors.

“Nothing specific, but I’ve heard he’s been in and out of juvie since he was old enough to be put in. Him and his brothers.”

“Half the people in the South Side have been to jail or juvie, what’s new?”

“I’m just warning you, Ian. Their family is fucked.”

“And ours aren’t?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“He’s different, Sky. He’s not his dad. I’ve told you about how he kissed me, but you should have seen it. Then you’d know. He’s different.”

“Alright. If you tell me that, I’ll believe you,” Skylar said sincerely.

“Thanks, Sky. I’m glad you believe me. I’ll show you. He’s different. You’ll see.”

 

\------

“Hey, I have a random question.”

After Ian had hung up with Skylar, he had sat in his room thinking about everything she said about the Milkoviches until Lip had gotten home. After Lip had settled in, Ian figured it was a good idea to see if he knew anything about the Milkoviches or if it was something Skylar knew solely because of her mom.

“Alright, go ahead. What is it?” Lip asked as he settled into his bed. He relaxed after an after school study session that probably wasn’t actually a study session, considering it was ten at night and he had just gotten home.

“What do you know about the Milkoviches?”

“Not much really. I’ve heard the dad is more of a piece of shit than Frank. Someone at the alibi literally came up to me and said “Terry Milkovich is a bigger piece of shit than your father” and then they left,” Lip laughed at the memory.

“I’ve heard the same stuff. What about the kids?”

“Nothing. I think they spend a lot of time in juvie, but most of them are past the juvie age or almost past it and have kept themselves out of jail. Why so curious about them all of a sudden?”

“That dude. From the party. He’s a Milkovich,” Ian admitted. Lip turned himself towards Ian and propped himself up on one arm. His face didn’t have an ounce of shock on it, so either he wasn’t surprised or he didn’t care.

“Really? Probably should’ve guessed that, I suppose,” Lip said, not in the least bit concerned.

“You think?” Ian questioned, eyebrows raised.

“He looked the part, now that I think about it.”

“You don’t have a problem with it?”

“Why would I?”

“Skylar seemed to be worried about it.”

“She’s a girl, though. She’s protective. You’ll be fine. I trust your instincts.”

“I do, too. Let’s hope it’s worth it.”

****  
  


\--------

“Don’t fucking kiss me, dude.”

Mickey had hooked up with the dude Mandy set him up with for the third time this week, and it wasn’t helping him figure anything out. His head was clouded with that fucking redhead that wouldn’t leave him alone. The sex did help him figure out that he liked it up the ass, though. That was helpful for future reference, he supposed.

The only problem was that every time he hooked up with this guy, who was just as attractive as Mandy has said he was, he thought about the redhead. Mickey didn’t even know his name but he couldn’t get him out of his head. He didn’t fucking understand it, and that bothered him. Everything bothered him recently. Fucking was supposed to make people feel better, but it wasn’t happening for Mickey. Every time he fucked this guy (well, the guy fucked him), he felt worse. It sort of felt like guilt, but that didn’t make sense.

He left the rent-by-the-hour hotel room and the guy - whatever his name was - and made his way home. The whole time walking, he thought about how he could have sworn he saw the stupid ginger at the Kash N Grab earlier. He’d gone in there before and had never seen him before, so he couldn’t help but believe he was hallucinating this guy.

Mickey was so mad at himself for every action he’d taken since kissing that guy at the party, including hooking up with Francis or Julio or whatever the fuck his name was that Mandy set him up with. He kept thinking that if he had just told this redhead his name the other day, they could be fucking and he could be ‘finding himself’ with him instead of some other guy he didn’t even know.

Not that he knew the redhead, but when they kissed it felt like they knew each other. Mickey hated how cheesy that was, but it was true. He hated it all. He hated how he felt about the redhead, he hated not knowing exactly how he felt about his sexuality, he hated not being emotionally available because it was impossible for him despite his efforts.

Most of all, he hated not having anyone to go through this shit with. He could tell Mandy, but she wouldn’t understand. Sure she liked guys, but a girl liking guys is not frowned upon in the Milkovich household. He could tell Iggy and Colin, but he wasn’t sure how they would take the whole thing and he never really trusted them with anything but violence anyway. The only person it would be safe to tell about his feelings is a fucking priest at confession, and there was no way in hell he was stepping foot in a church unless he really had to.

**Mickey knew his emotional constipation would cause him trouble, but he never knew he’d want to change the way he expressed himself. It was a terrible feeling. He needed to deal with it by himself, and soon.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed chapter 5! :) Feel free to leave comments/kudos :)


	6. The Douchebag Ex-Boyfriend

Talking to Iggy and Colin was not what Mickey wanted to be doing this weekend. It really wasn’t. At all. He’d kill for his brothers and he always cares when they go to jail, but they could be repetitive as fuck and they weren’t helping him in any way at this moment in time. The only useful thing they had said was that Mandy’s douchebag ex Vinnie was in the area again, and that was all Mickey needed to know. He would have been out the door the second after they said it if it wasn’t for their banter.

“Fuckin’ aye, dude, you need to take a fuckin’ shotgun and blow the guys brains out,” Colin argued for the third time.

“Okay I agree with blowing his brains out but where is Mick supposed to hide a fucking shotgun? He can’t go around carrying a shotgun,” Iggy replied.

“Guys, would you shut the fuck up already? I’m taking the Beretta and leaving now, are you two coming with or would you rather I leave you alone to argue about stupid shit?” Mickey said loud enough to make his brothers shut up.

“You can’t take the Beretta, dad got busted with it last month,” Iggy said.

“Well then I’ll take the Ruger, who the fuck cares which pistol I take? I’m gonna fucking kill the dude and that’s what matters,” Mickey was just pissed off and wanted to leave but also sort of hoped his brothers would come for back-up if he needed it.

“The Ruger’s in Mandy’s room,” Colin said, not looking up from the gun he was currently re-assembling on the table.

“The fuck is it doing in there?” Mickey raised his eyebrows and waited for any type of answer from his brothers.

“Recreational purposes?” Iggy offered. Mickey just sighed and made his way to Mandy’s room to look for the gun he wanted. Her room was a lot cleaner than Mickey’s, but the gun wasn’t in plain sight so he ruffled through her drawers to find it. Of fucking course, it was in the drawer with all her underwear.

“Fuck,” he mumbled as he grabbed the gun from under one of Mandy’s lacy thongs.

“The fuck are you doing going through my drawers? Perv,” Mandy asked, hitting her brother on the arm so hard she gave him a dead arm. Luckily, it wasn’t the arm holding the gun.

“Fuck, Mandy! I just wanted the Ruger and Colin said it was in here,” Mickey explained, shoving the gun into his waistband and reaching to hold his arm.

“You could’ve just asked me instead of invading my privacy and going through my underwear, dumbass,” Mandy snapped and scowled at her brother.

“I didn’t know you were home. Jesus christ, Mandy, you on your monthly or some shit?” Mickey asked, shaking his arm to try to make it stop tingling.

“No. And it wouldn’t be any of your fucking business if I was, now would it?” Mandy growled, giving him a pissed-off look. Mickey wasn’t going to provoke her right now when he had other business.

“Guess not. I’m going, and I’m taking the Ruger,” he told her. “If you need another gun I think the Smith & Wesson is on the kitchen counter next to the sink.”

“Thanks,” she looked less mad, but Mickey still didn’t believe she wasn’t on her period. He hadn’t done anything to provoke her. Maybe something else had. At this moment he didn’t really care, he just wanted to get out of the fucking house.

“Yeah,” he gave her a concerned look. “Look, if someone is making you angry like this, just tell me.”

“I overheard you guys saying Vinnie is back in the neighborhood. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to hear about him ever again.” Mandy admitted.

“We’re taking care of it. Don’t worry about it. I’d stay in the house for a while, though.”

Mandy didn’t reply, just threw her arms around Mickey and hugged him for a little while. When she released him, Mickey knew he couldn’t screw up this time. He just couldn’t.

He walked back through the kitchen with a plan that in his mind was foolproof, though there were a lot of things that could go wrong that he definitely hadn’t thought about. Iggy and Colin were still at the table fiddling with guns and tasers and handcuff picks, and Mickey just rolled his eyes.

“You idiots coming with or not?” Mickey said, staring at his brothers.

“Hey, that’s offensive,” Iggy said, then added, “but yeah, I’m coming.”

“I gotta finish this shit, I’ll catch up with you guys later,” Colin said, still mostly concentrating on the gun that was currently in about ten separate pieces.

Mickey nodded at that, then led the charge to find Mandy’s piece of shit ex-boyfriend. He had wanted both of his brothers there, but one would have to do.

“Got a gun?” Mickey questioned when they were outside.

“The Glock,” Iggy confirmed.

“Good, you might need it,” Mickey said, making sure Iggy knew the seriousness of the situation. “This dude isn’t exactly small, remember? So don’t try to take him by yourself, and don’t let me take him by himself.”

“Got it.”

****  


\--------

“That’s him, you see him?” Mickey and Iggy had wound up in some back alleyway near a row of two-star-at-best diners trying to find Vinnie, who was as sneaky as he was slimy.

“Yeah, I see him. He’s huge, how the fuck did he get away from you last time? He can’t possibly run faster than you,” Iggy asks, confused.

“Long story,” Mickey said, leaning around the corner to see if the guy had gone into the diner he had been standing in front of for the past five minutes.

“Fine, dickhead, don’t tell me how you let this beast get away from you,” Iggy sassed.

“Wasn’t planning on telling you, still not planning on telling you, idiot,” Mickey assured him.

They both peeked around the corner, but Vinnie the Douche still hadn’t moved from his spot, leaning against the bricks in front of the diner, smoking a cigarette, and flexing like it was his job. He was tall, probably six feet or slightly under. He was pale and mousey looking, but built like a fucking bodybuilder. He slicked his hair back like he belonged in “Grease”.

Nothing pissed Mickey off more than a conceited sonofabitch like Vinnie. Cocky was fine because sometimes it was necessary to survive living in South Side, but being full of yourself Mickey just didn’t understand. He understood hating yourself so much that you acted like you were better, but he didn’t understand actually seeing yourself as better than everyone else. Vinnie didn’t have a selfless bone in his fucking body, and Mickey had known since the first day Mandy brought him home.

Vinnie finished his cigarette and stomped it out like it was the coolest thing in the world, and Mickey just scoffed. Thankfully, they were at a safe enough distance to do so and McDouchebag didn’t hear Mickey’s verbal disgust.

“You think we should follow him inside?” Iggy whispered, watching Vinnie as he entered the dinner on the corner of the block.

“Are you fucking insane? No, we aren’t just going to follow him inside. He’ll recognize us and fucking bolt. Ya know, I didn’t think you were _that_ stupid,” Mickey whispered harshly back.

“Fuck you, Mick,” Iggy said loudly, backing away from the wall now that they were safely out of Vinnie’s sight.

****  


\------

Ian and Skylar had decided to go to another diner after school, since “The Brewery” was currently under construction. Some stupid fucker decided the only way out of a bad situation was an even worse situation, then he proceeded to drive his car through the front window of the coffee shop. Thankfully, the insurance money and what they sued the guy for covered a major renovation that the owner had wanted for a while.

They walked along the street, side by side, laughing at everything the other person said. Ian kicked a rocked along with them and when he gave up on that, he turned to face Skylar and walked backwards.

“So, what do you think the guy was doing? The one that thought the Brew was a drive-in,” Ian asked Skylar. He loved hearing her theories on things like that. She was so smart it was almost painful for Ian, and she was hysterical when it came to deducing reasons behind things. He wasn’t attracted to her physically, but he sure as hell was attracted to how smart she was. If he was into girls, he’d totally be into Skylar for more than one reason.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” she replied, a puzzled look on her face.

“Yes, you do,” Ian insisted, his smile wide. “Tell me, Sky. What was that lunatic doing?”

“Well, if you insist, Watson,” Skylar laughed, then plunged into one of her usual deductions. “So he was probably on the run from someone. From the money they found in the car…”

Ian stopped her mid sentence. “Wait, how do you know there was money in the car?”

“I have my sources, Gallagher. That’s not the point. Can I continue?”

“Go ahead.”

“So guessing by the amount of money they found in the car - and before you ask, it was $10,000 - he was almost definitely on the run from the person he stole it from. Which could have been anyone from contract killer to drug dealer. But considering how slowly he drove into the store compared to someone on the run from a drug dealer, I’m going to assume he suspected it was a killer he stole the money from and he suspected said killer was following him. Driving into the diner would have been the best way to lose the person following them while being presumed dead by said person, then get out without being noticed. I’ll take a wild guess that he left the money to lead the killer off of his scent, but who knows.”

“You’re a fucking genius, you know that?” Ian’s eyebrows were raised, his mouth hanging slightly more open than usual. He was always impressed with Skylar. Always.

“A genius would have a few more IQ points than me, hon,” Skylar points out.

“No, I don’t care what the fucking technical definition is, you’re a genius. You could be anything you want. Why aren’t you an undercover agent or some shit already?” Ian says, almost tripping, catching himself, then laughing along with Skylar at his almost failure.

“Won’t take me with my piercings and rap sheet,” Skylar informed Ian.

“Well shit, Sky, you even knew that,” Ian laughed. “Maybe we can make you into a Natasha Romanoff type of assassin and we can go off on adventures.”

“You know Romanoff?” Skylar smirked at Ian’s knowledge of pop culture. “Who’d you pick that up from?”

“Lip saw Avengers and wouldn’t shut up about how hot Scarlett Johansson was and how badass Natasha was. It stuck.”

“Makes sense, actually. She is hot, though, to be honest,” she adds.

“I wasn’t denying it, I’m just not into vagina.”

“Oh, honey, I know. Remember 6th grade? Nightmare.”

As soon as Skylar finished her sentence she grabbed Ian - who was still walking backwards - on the arm to stop him.

“Shit, Ian. Is that Mickey?” Skylar asked, pointing across the street to an alley near the diner they were heading to.

“Fuck, is it? Shit, it is.” he said, turning to check, then turning back to Skylar frantically. “How’s my hair? Do I look okay?”

 

\-------

“Shit, is that the redhead? Oh goddamn it.”

Mickey and Iggy had been waiting for only fifteen minutes for Vinnie to come out of the restaurant before Mickey noticed the guy from the party with his friend. He automatically became frantic, but at the same time tried to remain calm. It was a really weird state for Mickey to be in, and he sort of just held his breath and stayed still for a minute. When he saw the redhead stop, he let out his breath.

“Iggy, get behind that dumpster,” Mickey demanded, but Iggy stayed put.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Iggy asked, frustrated by Mickey’s request.

“Just fucking do it, please? This is important,” Mickey was almost to the point of pleading. Iggy saw this and decided to do as Mickey asked.

“Fine, don’t fucking whine about it, jesus christ,” Iggy said, moving towards the dumpster and positioning him in a way that made it so even Mickey couldn’t see him.

Mickey now stood against the wall, trying to look cool. He didn’t fucking know why, but he wanted to impress this dude. He tried acting nonchalant, with his hands in the pockets of his jeans and his shoulder leaning against the hot bricks of the building in the alley. He wasn’t even sure if the redhead had noticed him, but he sort of hoped he did and also sort of didn’t.

Just when he thought he’d gone without being noticed, the redhead and his redheaded friend crossed the street and made their way towards where Mickey was standing. As they approached him, the girl kissed the redhead’s cheek and walked straight past Mickey.

“Hey, fancy seeing you in this part of town,” the redhead said, trying horribly to attempt small talk.

“Fuck off, I’m busy,” Mickey said, sort of still watching the diner, but also avoiding looking in that direction because the girl was going that way, too.

“You said that last time, still don’t believe you,” the redhead said.

“No, seriously. Fuck off,” Mickey returned.

“Fine, be that way,” he said and smirked. “By the way, I’m Ian if you wanted to know. Ian Gallagher.”

The guy that Mickey now knew as Ian gave a small smile and left like he was a fucking god leaving his pedestal. Mickey couldn’t help but stare after this ginger god, and the goddamn redhead was wearing clothes that shouldn’t even be legal he looked so good in them. He shook the thought from his head, then got angry with himself for not taking the chance to talk to Ian. He internally blamed Iggy for being there, but at least Iggy being there was an excuse not to do something he might regret.

Fuck, he was definitely mad at himself that he didn’t talk to Ian.

“Fuck,” Mickey said, clenching his fists by his side. All of a sudden, he lost his shit and punched the brick wall he had just been leaning on. His sharp intake of breath was followed by an, “Ow, fuck!”

“What’s that all about?” Iggy asked, emerging from behind - or under, Mickey really didn’t know - the dumpster.

“Nothing, fuck off.”

“Did we lose him again?”

“I don’t know, walk past the window of the diner and look to see if he’s in there,” Mickey said through clenched teeth, holding in the pain he was feeling internally and externally.

“Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I fucking can’t, now go do it before I decide to use the Ruger on you, dickhead,” Mickey grunted. “Thumbs up if he’s in there, thumbs down if he isn’t.”

A few minutes later, Iggy was standing in front of the diner with two thumbs pointing in the downward direction.

“Fuck, not again,” Mickey muttered under his breath, still cradling his injured hand. He’d let the redhead - no, Ian - distract him. Again.

****  


\------

“So what’d he say?” Skylar asked eagerly as Ian sat down in the booth she’d gotten for them inside.

“He said to fuck off,” Ian laughed.

“What else?” She smiled.

“That he was busy. I’d say he was pretty busy checking me out when I left. I could feel his eyes burning holes into my ass, Sky. It was hilarious,” Ian grinned from ear to ear as the waiter dropped two menus on the table and set glasses of water on top of napkins for them.

“I fucking told you, Ian! What’d I fucking tell you?”

“I know! And I already said you were a genius, did you think I doubted you?”

“No, but I still get to rub it in your face because I CALLED IT!” she said loudly, and the few other patrons in the diner looked at her for a second before going back to their business.

“Shhh, shut up, Sky!” Ian was practically giggling with excitement. “I told him my name, too. There’s no way we won’t see each other again. It’s fucking fate.”

“You two will be making love in the candlelight in no time,” Skylar teased.

“Shut the fuck up, asshole. My goals start small, don’t let me dream that big yet! Maybe he’s not the ‘making love’ type, ya know? I’d be good with fucking,” Ian clarified.

“Making love in the candlelight. That’s my prediction. Don’t fuck it up for me,” Skylar said, a very serious look on her face.

“I’ll try not to.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was joyous to write. I hope you liked it! :)


	7. Written in the Stars

“So he’s gone for good then? Like forever?”

Mickey had walked in on Iggy, Colin, and Mandy talking about something, but he had no clue what. Someone was gone, that’s for sure. He didn’t know who, or where they went.

“The fuck you guys talking about?” Mickey asked curiously.

“Terry,” Mandy explained. “He got busted for some shit. Iggy said he thought he heard the cops say some shit about being accused of murdering someone, but he couldn’t hear from underneath the dumpster.”

“I coulda told him that myself, bitch,” Iggy spat, but it was more teasing than actual anger.

“Well I thought since maybe you can’t hear, you also can’t speak. Like fuckin’ Helen Keller or some shit,” Mandy laughed and stuck her tongue out at Iggy, teasing back. She could never keep a straight face around Iggy and Colin. They weren’t stupid, but they could be so dumb sometimes.

“I don’t know who that is, but I’m sure that’s really fucking offensive, so fuck off,” Iggy replied, but he smiled, too. It was a rare occurrence for the Milkoviches to be laughing and smiling together, but Mickey supposed that Terry being permanently incarcerated was reason enough to be teasing and happy.

“When did he go in?” Mickey yawned, stretched, and sat down at the table with his brothers while his sister stood in front of the toaster in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear waiting for her toast.

“Last night,” Colin offered, fiddling with a different gun today.

“We were on a gun run when some undercover cop spotted dad. I hid behind the dumpster,” Iggy added.

“How the fuck are you so good at hiding behind dumpsters? Is that like a special skill? Could you list that on a fucking résumé? What the hell, Iggy. It doesn’t make sense,” Mickey inquired, apparently just fed up with how oddly good his brother was at hiding.

“I suppose I could, yeah. It helps that me and Col have been on a lot of runs with dad without you. Colin’s pretty good at hiding, too,” Iggy insisted.

“Not nearly as good as you, though. You could hide in a fucking shadow, dude,” Colin argued.

“It still doesn’t make any fucking sense to me, but okay,” Mickey rolled his eyes and stole a piece of toast off of Mandy’s plate as she sat down.

“Hey! Fuck off, asshole!” Mandy swore at Mickey, but he shoved half of the piece of toast in his mouth before she could take it back from him.

“So why do you think he’ll be in there for good this time? Life sentence never stopped him before,” Mickey questioned his siblings.

“It’s the twelfth time he’s broken probation, he’s the prime suspect in a murder investigation, and he doesn’t have money or sources to get a good lawyer this time because his usual guy is the one they are accusing him of murdering. The dude’s dead. Wouldn’t be surprised if Terry killed him just to get out of debt with the guy,” Mandy explained.

“Yeah, he’ll be in there for a long time,” Colin said, picking up the pieces of his current project and leaving while Iggy followed for some unknown reason.

“So….” Mickey said, trying to break the silence.

“So?” Mandy raised her eyebrow when she said it. “What’s on your mind?”

“Is it fucked up that I don’t give a shit about Terry? I mean, I give even less of a shit than usual. I have more important things on my mind,” he said, turning to look Mandy in the eye.

“Everything is more important than Terry,” she laughed and went back to eating her toast.

“You know that dude I kissed at the frat party?” Mickey looked down at his hands, avoiding eye contact because it was fucking embarrassing that he was talking to Mandy about the dude - no, Ian - when he had tried to tell her before that he wasn’t even sure what he and the guy had.

“Of fucking course, who could forget her brother making out with a super sexy ginger kid at a frat party?” Mandy was dying holding back her excitement that Mickey finally trusted her enough to talk to her about this.

“I keep running into him, it’s really fucking weird,” Mickey said, still not making eye contact with Mandy.

“Really? Maybe it’s the gods telling you something,” Mandy smiled softly at her brother, trying to be serious. She was still really giddy on the inside, but wanted him to take her seriously.

“Like what?” Mickey rubbed his face with his hands, clearly stressed about this. Mandy put her hand on his back, trying to comfort him. He didn’t even shake her off. “They hate me? They are trying to ruin everything? They keep interrupting when I’m about to run that douchey ex of yours out of town for good.”

“No, fuckface. Not that they want to ruin everything. That you and the ginger god are meant to be,” Mandy clarified. “That you’re… that maybe you’re written in the stars or some shit. Like, it’s fate or destiny or something.”

“I don’t believe in that fate shit.”

****  
  


\-------

Mickey was found himself in a back alley behind a van full of illegal weapons and substances that evening, prepared to buy the most expensive and useful gun in order to make sure he’d be able to at least severely injure Vinnie. The guy he was buying from was definitely too greasy to be an undercover cop, so he felt okay about it when he settled on a Beretta that was similar to Terry’s old one. Mickey never liked the man, but even he had to admit that Terry had excellent taste in guns.

“Thanks, Chuck. ‘ppreciate it,” Mickey says as the gun dealer closes his van doors.

“No prob, Mick. Anything for a kid of Terry’s,” Chuck replied, happy to be helpful.

Mickey left the alley content with his purchase, admiring it until he was almost out of the alley then tucking it in between his waistband and the small of his back. It was cold at first, and the metal touching his skin made him shiver. The momentary sensation made him lose focus on his surroundings and in the darkness he literally ran directly into Ian Gallagher. _Fuck_.

His hand went directly to the gun, but once he realized who it was he relaxed a bit and backed a foot away from the guy.

“Oh, look who it is!” Ian said nonchalantly, like Mickey was an old friend and they had coincidentally bumped into each other. They were definitely not at that level of friendship - not even close in Mickey’s mind, or at least that was what he’d like to think.

“Fuck, you again?” Mickey groaned.

“Crazy coincidence, huh?” Ian wriggled his eyebrows at Mickey.

“Yeah, sure,” Mickey said. Ian was staring at him in a way that he found extremely uncomfortable, but the staring made it difficult for Mickey to move. Why did this dude make him feel like this? Uncomfortable, yet oddly charmed? The whole time he stood there he wondered what the fuck was wrong with himself. It couldn’t have been more than a minute before Ian replied, but it felt like a century to Mickey.

“Maybe running into you like this is like fate or something… like we’re written in the stars or some shit,” Ian said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one up. He offered Mickey one and Mickey took it gladly, letting Ian light it for him instead of lighting it himself. The whole thing definitely eased the weird tension in the air and made Mickey a little more comfortable with the guy. Mickey chuckled at Ian’s remark and took a long drag on the cigarette.

“That’s funny,” Mickey says, knocking the ashes off the end of his cigarette.

“What’s funny?” Ian asked, doing the same.

“My sister said the same exact thing,” Mickey explained.

“What?”

“She said we were ‘written in the stars or some shit’. Those exact words,” Mickey smiled at the thought of the ridiculous bullshit she threw at him earlier.

“Maybe your sister and I are written in the stars. Either that or great minds think alike, I guess,” Ian laughed at himself. Mickey smiled at the remark. “But in reality I think that your sister and Lip - my brother - are more likely to be written in the stars. They were fucking wild, Mickey.”

Mickey smiled at that memory, too. He didn’t know why, but this dude was the only one who could make him smile this much beside Mandy, but she was family so it didn’t really count. Not as much at least. The thing Mickey wanted to know at that moment, though, was how Ian knew his name.

“Wait, how do you know my name?” Mickey asked, all of a sudden really confused. He couldn’t tell if he was mad or sad that he wasn’t the one to tell Ian his name.

“Uh, well, you came into Kash N Grab when I was working the other day… Long story short, Linda told me,” Ian skipped half the story and rushed through the ending. He didn’t want Mickey to know about the whole hiding thing.

“Oh,” was all Mickey could muster.

“Yeah,” Ian said, keeping his eyes focused on the ground as he finished his cigarette then stomped it out. “Well I better go, I told my friend I’d be over fifteen minutes ago.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

“Oh I will, will I?” Ian winked at Mickey as he turned to leave.

“Fuck off.”

Mickey kept his head down but he couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Ian caught his little freudian slip.

****  
  


\------

_What the fuck was I thinking?_

Mickey mentally kicked himself as he watched Ian leave.

_I can’t let Ian get to my head. I can’t feel this way about him. I do, but I can’t let myself express it. Who the fuck am I kidding? I should let myself feel it, but I can’t. I don’t know how._

Everything Mickey was feeling felt like it was going to tear him directly down the middle, half of him saying he needs to let himself give in to Ian and the other half saying he needs to bury it and forget about it. He didn’t know what to do anymore, but giving in seemed easier. The idea of burying it hurt even more than giving in.

Still, it was more impossible for him to fully admit to himself that he could be romantically and sexually interested in guys. He was never really sexually attracted to girls, but he never thought that was because he was gay. Not that he found anything wrong with other people being gay - although he always acted like he did when Terry was around - he just never thought he could be.

Since Mandy set him up with a fuck buddy, he came to terms with the fact that he enjoyed sex with guys more than sex with girls. But being interested in pursuing a relationship with a guy was new and terrifying territory that Mickey neither wanted nor understood.  Even pursuing a relationship at all was a new and terrifying idea that he had never even thought he wanted before. What about this guy had made him think like this?

Having all of these thoughts and ideas swirling around in his head gave him a migraine, and it was the only thing he could think about the whole way home. Mickey wondered if maybe it was fate after all, but he wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t believe in that shit. He had never believed in it before, especially not after all the shit Terry put their family through. That couldn’t have been meant to be, because Terry had been like that their entire lives and the young Milkoviches hadn’t done anything to make whoever decides fate hate them.

_Fucking aye, I might as well just give in to his efforts if I run into him again. What’s the fucking point of keeping my distance when I know I like guys even if I would never admit it out loud? Maybe Mandy’s bullshit has some truth to it and me and Ian could work out. There’s no harm in trying when Terry is locked up. If we keep it secret it won’t even have to be a big deal._

Mickey decided he’d give in and see how it goes, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t going to play hard to get. He definitely wasn’t going to give in easily. Ian would have to work for it, which was okay since Ian always seemed to be up for a challenge.

 


	8. Inevitability of the Thing

A couple days later, Ian still hadn’t given up hope on Mickey. He figured they lived close enough to run into each other every once in a while, and he could tell that Mickey was totally warming up to his attempts at flirting.

He and Skylar had to journey to another part of town again, due to the fact that “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition” didn’t cover coffee shops, so “The Brewery” was still under construction and had a long way to go before it even remotely resembled the coffee shop they once frequented. There was a half day at school so Skylar thought it would be a good idea for them to head to another coffee shop she’d heard about from some friends that was nowhere near their usual spots.

Ian pulled the door open and gestured to Skylar to go inside, then followed her to the counter to order. He ordered a caramel latte and as soon as he was about to pick it up, he noticed a concerned looking Mickey staring down intently at his phone, that was too fancy to not have been stolen. Ian decided to approach him, and Skylar joyously followed once she realized where he was heading.

“This has _got_ to be fate, Mick,” Ian said, setting his coffee down on the table Mickey was sitting at and pulling up a chair to join him.

“Yeah, don’t fucking call me ‘Mick’,” Mickey grumbled, not looking up from his phone. He knew who had joined him - he could tell by the voice, who could forget Ian’s voice -  but no one got to call him ‘Mick’ unless they were in the inner circle. His siblings could call him that. His dealers of various sorts could call him that. Ian could definitely not call him that. Mickey wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment.

“Come on, we’re written in the fucking stars. Don’t you think, Sky?” Ian asked, raising his eyebrow and smiling at his best friend.

“Seems pretty inevitable if you ask me, dudes,” Skylar confirmed, much to Mickey’s dismay. From what he gathered, this girl was never wrong. Her assurance made him audibly sigh.

“What the fuck do you want?” Mickey was taking the ‘hard to get’ thing seriously, and his phone was actually just a distraction so he didn’t give in easily to Ian. He was playing flappy bird on the Galaxy that he had stolen from someone a few weeks back, and the anger and frustration from the game made it extremely easy to act pissed off to Ian and his friend. In fact, it wasn’t even really acting. He was pissed that they were distracting him.

“Just wanted to see what was up… if you’d thought about what we talked about the other night,” Ian said calmly, but he was really dying to know. He was sitting backwards on the chair and he leaned over to try to catch Mickey’s eye. Mickey had other plans, and remained focused.

“We didn’t talk about shit,” Mickey replied through gritted teeth.

“We talked about fate, dude. And the fact that we’re meant to be,” Ian grinned at Mickey as he said it. He truly believed it, even if Mickey didn’t yet.

“Not really, though,” Mickey said.

“Yeah, really,” Ian said, then looked at Skylar. Both of them did a weird communicating-in-silence-because-we-know-each-other-so-well thing, then Ian turned his attention back to Mickey.

“So since we’re here and conversing, and you clearly have a phone, can I have your number?” Ian said hopefully.

It took Mickey a moment to fully register what Ian had asked, and he knew that this would maybe be the only time he had a chance to connect without seeming like he was the one that was interested. He raised his head and looked from Ian to Skylar, then back to Ian.

“Yeah, I guess,” Mickey answered nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if it was no big deal when in reality it was a huge deal. “But don’t fucking annoy me.”

This was not the answer Ian was expecting at all. He clumsily took his phone - which wasn’t stolen, he paid actually paid for it - and placed it in the hand that Mickey had stuck out so he could put his number in it. Mickey dialed the number for his stolen phone into Ian’s phone, saved it as a contact, then called his phone from Ian’s so he had his number, too.

“Thanks, Mick,” Ian smiled at Mickey and Mickey had to use all of his willpower not to smile back. Ian’s smile was fucking contagious and it was something Mickey didn’t want to catch, ever.

“What did I say about callin’ me ‘Mick’?” Mickey said, frustrated.

“To not to,” Ian drawled in a ridiculous accent, smiling even wider. It was like he thought everything Mickey said was one big joke; it actually sort of made Mickey mad, but at the same time it was adorable and Mickey hated thinking something was adorable. Especially when that something was a some _one_.

“Did you seriously just fucking quote ‘Cars’ in public,” Skylar punched Ian on the arm, laughing at how dumb her best friend was. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

“What about a picture? For your contact ID?” Ian asked, pushing his luck.

“Yeah I’m leaving,” Mickey said, getting up and pushing his chair in before walking out the door.

When Mickey was out of sight, Skylar started to readjust herself around the table and waited for Ian to do the same. Then she started audibly squealing. Like a pig. She literally squealed out loud in public. Okay, maybe not that bad, but it was close. Ian didn’t even care because he was in such a blissful haze.

“Oh my god, Ian! He just gave you his fucking number! He gave you his number!” Skylar squealed and laughed. Ian tried to hush her, but that was almost impossible with Skylar.

“I know, Sky, I was right there. He was holding my phone,” he said, still in shock.

“I’m so happy for you, Ian Clayton Gallagher! We’re getting you a man!” Skylar was always more giddy about these things than Ian was. He figured it was because it was the only time she could actually feel like the best friend of a gay guy, considering other than liking dick he wasn’t exactly the stereotype model gay best friend.

“Actually, I’m getting me a man, but I’m glad you feel confident enough to take half of the credit,” he laughed at Skylar. She grabbed Ian’s hand on the table with both of hers.

“I always get half the credit, silly. I’m the brain and your the brawn in this team, and if you ever try to tell me otherwise you will get a swift kick to the ass, you understand me? And it won’t be fun, I promise,” She tried to smile as sweetly as she could while threatening Ian, but she just broke out in laughter and so did he.

“What would I do without you, Sky?” Ian asked when the laughed died down a bit.

“Probably die, I’m assuming,” she said.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

****  
  


\------

****  
  


“You know that guy from the frat party?”

Ian and Lip had assumed their usual deep conversation positions in their rooms on their beds, and Ian didn’t know how to bring it up so he got straight to it.

“Yeah, we’ve went over this. I say get over it and move on, you insist on keeping at it, yadda yadda,” Lip said sarcastically.

“Well I kept running into him and now I have his number,” Ian blurted out, not even telling Lip the full story. He didn’t expect Lip would want the full story, anyway.

“Wait, what? Kept running into him? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because I didn’t think anything would come of it before, but today he gave me his number and I figured you should know.”

“That’s great man. I’m glad.”

“The reason I’m even mentioning this to you is I was wondering if you wanted to double date with Mickey’s sister. The one from the party,” Ian said it quickly, hoping it’d make it less awkward if Lip said no. He was pumped about it, though, and hoped that since Lip had seem interested in the sister before he would be willing to do this.

“I guess. Sure, why not,” Lip agreed to it, mostly because Ian seemed so excited about the whole thing. And it’s not exactly like he was seeing any action lately, anyway, so he might as well.

“Are you serious? I thought I’d have to do a lot more persuading than that,” Ian eyes went wide, then squinted. “Wait a second, is there a catch to this?”

“No catch. I just haven’t had much action lately and the sister is hot. I’ll help my brother out when he needs it, dumbass,” Lip said jokingly.

“Thanks, Lip. I’ll call him later and ask about it,” Ian said and smiled at his brother, excited that he even agreed and even more ecstatic that it didn’t take the effort he thought it would.

“I’d wait a few days, dude. Calling tonight or even tomorrow seems desperate,” Lip pointed out.

“Oh, shit, yeah. You’re right. Thanks.”

\-------

A few days later Ian had finally worked up the nerve to call Mickey. If he had done it the night he got the number it wouldn’t have been as bad because all of the excitement of Mickey finally giving in to him would have overpowered his nervousness, but the days in between getting the number and calling it had given him too much time to think. Would Mickey even say yes? What if the number was disconnected since it was so obviously stolen? Did he wait too long? Did he not wait long enough? All the questions were killing him, so he decided to call before he died from the stress buildup.

“Hey,” Mickey said when he picked up.

“Hi. It’s me,” Ian said, then realizing he should probably clarify he added, “Ian Gallagher.”

“Yeah, I know. I can read the fuckin’ caller ID,” Mickey sassed through the phone.

“Shit, sorry, I know you can. What’s up?” Like calling Mickey wasn’t hard enough, now he was being sarcastic through the phone - or at least Ian hoped he was just being sarcastic.

“That’s all you called to ask? Why the fuck didn’t you just text me? Who the fuck even calls people anymore?”

“No, no, it’s more than that,” Ian said, trying to calm an irritated Mickey. “I wanted to know if you and your sister wanted to double date with me and my brother. I didn’t want to text that.”

What Ian didn’t add was that he thought calling was more personal and he wanted to be close to Mickey. He wanted to be the type of person Mickey was comfortable with talking to through the phone, which he now guessed was a very, _very_ special type of person.

Mickey didn’t know how to respond to this inquiry. Was he supposed to say yes? How the fuck should he know if his sister wanted to double date? He sure as hell wasn’t going to go out in public with Ian Gallagher on a date. Doing date things, like holding hands and shit. That wasn’t going to happen. He was not a dater, and that wasn’t changing - at least not right now. He wasn’t even sure of himself enough to know if he wanted a… _boyfriend_. The word had a weird sound, even when he wasn’t saying it out loud.

“I don’t fucking know,” Mickey replied. At that moment Mandy walked in and mouthed “Who’s on the phone?” to him. He didn’t have to say a word to know who it was. She could tell from a mile away when his brother was talking to the redhead. Literally. It was like she had spidey senses or something because she always got a warm feeling when her brother was talking to him, even if they were at opposite ends of the South Side and he didn’t tell her until days later.

“What does Ian want?” Mandy said, sitting on the arm of the couch next to her brother. “Ian, I’m listening in, repeat yourself,” she said as she stuck her ear right up against the phone and her brother’s head.

“I wanted to know if you and Mickey wanted to double date with me and Lip,” Ian repeated, hopeful that now that Mandy was in the room he had a better chance at hearing a ‘yes’.

“Oh my god! Mickey, if you don’t accept I am going to punch you in the fucking face,” Mandy said, and both she and Mickey could hear Ian laughing on the other end.

“I’m not going on a date in the fucking public. I don’t do that shit,” Mickey said into the phone, sort of giving in and opening the door up for Ian to offer non-public dates.

“What if you and your sister…”

“My name is Mandy!”

“What if you and Mandy come to our house for a movie or something while the rest of the family is gone?” Ian offered, hoping it was private enough for Mickey to accept.

“The rest of the family?” Mandy butted in again.

“Besides Lip, I have four other brothers and sisters. Fiona older, Debbie, Carl, and Liam younger,” Ian explained for Mandy’s sake.

“Hm, interesting.” Mandy said to no one in particular and backed away from the phone. “Take the deal, asshat. If you don’t, I will, and I’m dragging you with either way.”

“Fine, we’ll come over. But I don’t consider this a date. I don’t do dates,” Mickey said.

They exchanged times and dates and addresses necessary to the plan, and Mickey and Ian hung up. On his end, Ian sighed with relief. On the other end, Mandy still had a question.

“What the fuck kind of a name is Lip?”

“Fuck if I know.”


	9. It's not a fucking date. I don't do dates.

“You’re wearing that?”

Mandy scoffed at her brother as she inspected his outfit. Mickey wore a bro tank and shorts that did not nearly qualify as date-worthy in Mandy’s eyes.

“We’re gonna watch a fucking movie, Mandy. It’s not like their house is a fucking five-star restaurant in the middle of New York City. I’m not putting in any effort for this when it isn’t necessary.” Mickey snapped back, though he didn’t mean most of what he said. Well he did, but not in the way he had said it. Ian’s house may as well have been a five-star restaurant, but he still wasn’t going to dress up - he didn’t do the dressing up and dating thing. It was more than enough that he had said yes in the first place. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have dressed up even if it was a five-star restaurant. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually dressed up for something, and he had never dressed up for some _one_.

“Whatever, Mick. But don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you. That shit isn’t going to get you anywhere with Ian,” Mandy said back, pursing her lips and giving him another once-over.

“Who the fuck said I wanted to get somewhere with him? I only said yes for you,” Mickey informed her, although that was total bullshit, too. His reasons for saying yes were purely selfish. He wasn’t going to tell her that, though. He didn’t want to be targeted.

“Don’t bullshit me. I know you like him, at least a little bit. He’s grown on you, dipshit, and don’t try to deny that,” Mandy said, grabbing some cologne out from underneath a pile of other stuff on Mickey’s dresser and spritzing him with it. He didn’t even react to the whole ordeal; he’d sort of expected it.

“Fine, what if I fucking did like him? And not just because he made me realize I like guys, but because of who he is?” Mickey snapped at Mandy. Most of their conversation when it came to personal things consisted of yelling, so Mandy wasn’t phased by Mickey’s outburst. She had come to realize that it was the only way any of the Milkovich guys could get their feelings out, so she played off of it.

“I’d say it’s fucking great,” she snapped back. “Congratu-fucking-lations, Mick, you have a heart! And feelings! Who would have thought? A Milkovich with emotions other than rage and hatred!”

“Well that’s fucking wonderful, but I don’t. Like him. I don’t.”

Everything Mickey had been saying had been bullshit. He was slowly - over the past few weeks, since the frat party - coming to terms with the reality that he liked fucking guys a million times more than girls. Along with that, he’d come to terms with the fact that now that he knew he was into guys he was actually interested in having a relationship with someone.

Knowing that scared the shit out of him, and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Despite the fact that he wanted to give into Ian, his first reaction was to push it down and not deal with it. This date was making him nervous as fuck because first of all, he didn’t do dates. Which meant that he had no idea what was supposed to come of the night. And second of all, he didn’t want something to start with this. Everything about being around Ian excited him and terrified him all at once, and if the date didn’t work out he figured Ian wouldn’t be interested anymore and Mickey wouldn’t have to deal with his feelings.

“That’s such fucking bull, but I’ll pretend I believe you. Come on, we don’t want to be late,” Mandy urged, straightening out her outfit of an old ACDC t-shirt two sizes too big for her (it fell off one of her shoulders) and dark grey leggings before pulling Mickey out of his room and dragging him out of the house.

 

\---------

 

Ian was stressed about the whole evening. He had been silent most of the day due the stress, and Skylar had bugged him during every class they had together about the date. Thankfully, she was in enough advanced classes that Ian didn’t have to worry about it too much. By the time he got home, the date was all he could think about. It was Friday, so at least if the date went badly he could stay inside the rest of the weekend and not have to deal with Skylar.

“Ian, fucking stop pacing. You’re gonna have an aneurysm if you don’t calm down,” Lip said from Ian’s bed. Ian was in the hallway outside of their room and had been pacing back and forth for at least half an hour. Lip couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I’m freaking the fuck out,” Ian said, and Lip would have described it exactly the same way.

“I know. I’ve been watching you pace for the last half an hour,” Lip said. Ian rejoined Lip in their bedroom and sat down next to him. He ran his hands through his hair and looked like he was about to rip it out. “Jesus christ, Ian, don’t rip your fucking hair out. I’ve never seen you so stressed over a date before.”

“It’s not the same as any other date, you know that,” Ian said, dropping his hands into his lap.

“I know. Just calm down, though. It’ll be fine. Mandy and I will probably end up upstairs so you can figure out if this guy is into you,” Lip assures him.

The doorbell rang soon after Lip finished his pep talk, and he went to get it while Ian calmed down.

“Hey, guys, come in. Make yourselves at home,” Lip said while Ian trotted down the stairs. “Ian, wanna grab some beer for us?”

“Sure,” Ian agreed, making his way to the kitchen.

“Wanna help him?” Lip asked Mickey, hinting at something that Mickey clearly didn’t want to take part in right now.

“Why the fuck would I do that? He’s perfectly capable of doing it himself,” Mickey replied, and Lip just laughed.

“Okay, make yourselves comfortable. I figured we’d watch Die Hard because I’m pretty sure at least three out of four of us would prefer that to a rom-com.”

“Yeah, make that four out of four,” Mandy piped in as Ian came back in with the beer.

The four of them made themselves comfortable after Lip popped the movie in. Lip sat on the individual chair, Mandy sat on the couch in the place nearest Lip, Mickey sat next to Mandy, and Ian next to Mickey. Ian couldn’t tell who was more tense - himself or Mickey.

Conversation didn’t really start up until the movie started and Mandy decided to break the silence.

“Bruce Willis was sorta hot back then, huh? What do ya think, Ian?” she asked, making Ian relax a little. Having something to talk about that didn’t involve the weirdness of the date was making things easier.

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve always sort of been a Vin Diesel guy, though,” Ian replied, and Mandy laughed in response.

“Really? Vin Diesel over ‘Die Hard’ Bruce Willis? Nah, no fucking way. Which Vin Diesel? Don’t tell me it’s the fucking Pacifier. Don’t fucking tell me,” Mandy joked, and the atmosphere in the room lightened significantly. Mickey remained silent, but Lip decided to join in to instead of paying attention to the movie.

“No way, Ian. I’ll have to fucking disown you if it’s ‘The Pacifier’,” Lip laughed.

“I was thinking more ‘Fast and Furious’, but he was fucking great in ‘The Pacifier’. Don’t diss on that movie,” Ian said defensively, and laughter amongst the group erupted. Even Mickey couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Really, Gallagher? Defending ‘The Pacifier’?” Mickey finally joined in the conversation.

“What, it was a fucking great movie. I’d go as far as saying iconic,” Ian said, and again laughter from everyone.

“I can’t believe it. You prefer Vin Diesel over Bruce Willis. I don’t know if we can be friends,” Mandy smiled at Ian, and Ian smiled back.

Everything was easy goings from there, and conversation about Bruce Willis versus Vin Diesel continued until about halfway through the movie. When conversation died down, Lip and Mandy communicated non-verbally and made their way upstairs. Mickey moved over on the couch a little bit, away from Ian and seemingly avoiding contact.

“So, I’m gonna assume you’ve seen this movie before?” Ian asked, trying to break the silence that was close to being uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” Mickey answered, willing himself to not get caught up in conversation. He could be a talker when he got nervous, and he didn’t want Ian picking up on that. Actually, he was usually a talker, but he wanted Ian to be the talker now. If he said anything he just felt like he’d embarrass the fuck out of himself, and there was no way he was going to let that happen.

“You like it?” Ian tried to push the conversation out of Mickey. He wasn’t usually the one to carry conversation, but he was okay with it. He just wanted Mickey to contribute in some way.

“I guess,” Mickey said, twiddling his thumbs and trying not to make eye contact with Ian.

“You guess? Bruce fucking Willis, man. He’s hot as hell,” Ian said.

“Terry really doesn’t allow anything but action movies in the house so it’s sort of really fucking dull after a while,” Mickey confessed, mentally kicking himself for even letting Ian in that much.

“Frank doesn’t give a shit what we do or don’t do, so at least you have a dad who gives a shit,” Ian said, trying to get something out of Mickey that was meaningful.

“It’s not fucking worth it, though. I’d rather have a dad like Frank than Terry,” Mickey admits, but then stops himself before he gives too much of himself up.

“What do you mean?” Ian asks, still attempting to pull more out of Mickey.

“Nothing, nevermind,” Mickey mumbles, dropping the subject. Terry was his least favorite person and his least favorite topic of conversation. It brought up too many things he didn’t want to talk about. Ever.

“You can tell me,” Ian tried.

“I said it was nothing. Fuckin’ drop it,” Mickey snapped, then the room fell back to silence. After a minute, though, the silence was filled with the noise Mandy and Lip were making. Ian decided it would be better to talk about anything than listen to his brother fucking Mickey’s sister.

“Hey, since you’re here… what was up with that kiss? At the party? It was unbelievable,” Ian asked, now that he had Mickey in a position where he could safely answer - if he wanted to, that was.

“Oh, fuck off, Gallagher,” Mickey said with an eye roll like they’d gone over this a thousand times even when they hadn’t.

“No, I’m serious. Did it mean anything?” Ian pried. He figured he’d ask while he could.

“I fucking told you, it was just a fucking kiss. I came here for Mandy’s sake, and since it seems like she’s accomplished her mission for the night, I think I should leave,” Mickey said, taking the opportunity to get mad while he still had the capability of getting mad at Ian. He didn’t storm out, but got up to leave calmly.

“Come on, Mick. It wasn’t,” Ian said, grabbing Mickey’s arm and turning him so they faced each other. “It wasn’t ‘just a fucking kiss’.”

“What’d I say about fucking calling me ‘Mick’. And yes, it fucking was. I’m leaving now,” Mickey said, shaking his arm from Ian’s grip and leaving out the front door. Mandy would have to walk home by herself or stay the night.

“Bye, Mickey,” Ian said in defeat as his date left and closed the door behind himself.

Ian actually wasn’t all that disappointed by the night. It may not have gone as planned, but it sure as hell was more successful than it could have been. He felt like he was making headway with Mickey. And Mickey hadn’t exactly said that the kiss _didn’t_ mean anything. He hadn’t confirmed that it had, either. Overall, it could have been better and it could have been worse. Ian was satisfied with that.

 

\--------

“Fuck,” Mickey muttered under his breath when he was a little over two blocks away from Ian’s house. He needed to let himself relax, but he couldn’t. He was tense for two reasons, and both of them contradicted each other. He was stressed over letting Ian in too much, and he was stressed over not letting him in enough. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

He leaned against the fence at a random house, then let himself drop to the ground. His back fell against the cool metal and he let out a ragged breath, running his hands through his hair. Nothing was right. He wanted them to be right, but everything was wrong. He couldn’t handle his feelings for a guy he knew very little about, and now he was having a mental breakdown in front of some strangers house.

All he wanted to do was cry, but he knew he couldn’t do that in front of Ian or his siblings. A stranger’s house was perfectly acceptable, though. He couldn’t fucking handle himself anymore, and he sat there and cried. Not sobbed, cried. As tears streamed down his face, he thought about how stupid he probably looked. He thought about how Terry would kick his ass if he saw him like this, and how his brothers would laugh at him. How Mandy would give him a pitying look that he didn’t fucking want.

Most of all, Mickey thought of how dumb he felt. He was crying over not being able to show his feelings for a guy he just barely knew, and yet it felt okay to cry over this guy. Emotions like that were a rare show for the Milkoviches, and yet Mickey felt okay when he was by himself crying over that stupid redhead. Like it was better to cry over it than tell it how it is, which wasn’t normal at all. Especially for his family. And he felt so dumb for it. Unbelievably fucking stupid.

He sat in front of the house for a good twenty minutes, the cool breeze and cool metal helping him to cool down from the emotional overload. When it was all said and done, no one would have to know about Mickey’s meltdown. He could dry his eyes, even his breaths, and be composed entirely by the time he got home.

That’s exactly what he did. He got up, dried his eyes, and made sure he was breathing evenly. Immediately he reburied the emotions that had welled up in him. Even if he wasn’t always the hard, emotionally constipated person that everyone knew all the time, he wanted to keep the front that he was. No one would know he cried over Ian Gallagher, especially not Ian Gallagher. And he’d go back to being an emotionally stubborn guy who played hard to get with a guy he was pretty sure he was in love with even though he couldn’t really admit it to himself. Because he was Mickey fucking Milkovich, and feelings like love were not allowed. Not in his mind. At least not yet.

Of course, the cause of his frustration and feelings he couldn’t allow himself to feel decided to contact him the morning after the so called ‘date’.

_“I thought maybe texting you would be better karma or whatever for our next date.”_

 


	10. This weekend sort of sucks, but it also sort of doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets a little violent at the end... just thought I'd forewarn you!

_“Who said last night was a fuckin date, Gallagher?”_

Mickey had contemplated what he was going to say for a while, but figured playing dumb would be the best way to go. After his breakdown the previous night, he really didn’t want to make it seem like he was interested.

_“Mandy & Lip seemed to think so. But also me. I say it was a fuckin date.”_

Ian never knew how to react to Mickey’s sarcasm, but he assumed it was better to answer the question rather than pretend it was rhetorical. Of course,in his mind it was a date. No matter what Mickey said, it was definitely a date.

_“Mandy? Ur talkin to Mandy now? Christ.”_

Damn it, as if dealing with Ian alone wasn’t enough, now Mandy was involving herself in the whole thing. Mickey did not want to deal with Mandy’s pestering along with Ian’s. For fuck’s sake, this was just making matters worse.

_“Not rly, she just told me you’re super into me before she left this morning. Oh, and something about if I break your heart she’s going to jam a shiv in my eye.”_

Ian laughed to himself at the memory of only a few hours earlier. He had been sitting in the kitchen eating cereal when Mandy had come down the stairs in her leggings and one of Lip’s tank tops. She had punched him in the shoulder for not getting Mickey to stay the night, then she said, “He really likes you, ya know. He would never admit it, but he does. He probably would have stayed if he didn’t. I know that doesn’t make sense, but it’s true.” Ian had smiled at that, happy to get confirmation. Even if it wasn’t confirmation from Mickey, it was a step closer.

_“She fuckin lied to you. Well, not about the shiv thing, but you won’t have to worry about that.”_

Denial was the only path for Mickey to go down in this situation. He couldn’t admit Mandy was telling the truth, but he also didn’t want to say ‘I don’t like you’, because for some reason he couldn’t lie that drastically to Ian.

_“I really dont think she did Mick.”_

_“Stop with the ‘mick’ shit, please.”_

_“Well if last night wasn’t a date, what was it?”_

_“Hanging out. Friends hanging out.”_

_“But we barely know each other, I hardly consider that ‘friends hanging out’. Especially when we’re both attracted to each other.”_

_“Knock it the fuck off, Gallagher.”_

_“How bout a real date, then?”_

_“No.”_

_“You afraid of being shown up by lil ol’ Ian Gallagher, huh?”_

_“No.”_

_“Then what?”_

_“I told you, I don’t fucking do dates.”_

_“You’re just afraid you might actually like it if you try it.”_

_“No.”_

_“Stop bullshitting me and just say yes!”_

_“We’re just friends.”_

_“The fuck we are. I know you felt something. That you FEEL something.”_

_“It was just a kiss, that’s all.”_

The conversation was not going where either of them wanted. Ian wanted Mickey to give in to his efforts, while Mickey was struggling with not giving in. Mickey also hated that Ian was getting angry about this, because it made him like him even more.

_“That’s funny. Keep telling yourself that, maybe one day you’ll believe it.”_

_“Fine.”_

_“What?”_

Ian was ready to yell at his phone. Either that, or throw it across the room. He hated that Mickey was being so stubborn about all of this. He just needed to agree to one date, and if it didn’t work out it would be fine. After the last message he sent, his phone was quiet for a while and he was afraid he had scared Mickey away.

_“When and where?”_

Mickey was terrified of accepting to go on this date, but he reminded himself that it was okay and that Terry couldn’t stop him. He reminded himself that it was only one date and then maybe Ian Gallagher and his stupid face would leave him alone. It didn’t take away the terror, but it helped suppress it for now.

_“The movie theater that’s near the Brew. You know it?”_

_“Yeah, time?”_

_“9pm. Tomorrow.”_

_“See ya then, Gallagher.”_

_“Alright, Mick ;)”_

Mickey just shook his head at his phone at Ian’s stubbornness with the ‘Mick’ thing. He wasn’t going to give it up, and Mickey figured he should just stop trying.

Ian was ecstatic about how the conversation had gone. He didn’t expect Mickey to give in, assuming they’d have to have another private date before anything further happened. But he was definitely motivated to get somewhere on this date.

Even Mickey was sort of excited about the date. He wouldn’t have admitted it, but it was a nice way to be with Ian without having to talk to him and let him in. It would be a relief to be around him without having to share how he felt. For some reason, Ian made him feel okay with himself and accepted in ways other people couldn’t and never had. Being in a dark movie theater with him would be terrifying, but also relaxing.

 

\-------

****  


“Hey, you up to anything tonight?”

Mandy dropped down next to Mickey on their couch, throwing her arm around him.

“No, not really,” he replied, shrugging her arm off of his shoulder. “Why?”

“Just wondering. I’m going out to a club tonight and I wanted to know if you wanted to come,” Mandy explained, nudging him in the side. “You never go out, I thought you’d want to have some fuckin’ fun for once.”

“Are you even fucking old enough for clubs? Don’t you have to be twenty-one or some shit?” Mickey asked, not really paying attention. His mind was on other things.

“Since when the fuck do you care? But yeah, I have a fake ID. Not like you don’t. You use one to get booze all the fucking time. It helps that you look fucking ancient, though, I suppose,” Mandy teased, trying to stir up some interest in her brother. Her efforts were rewarded when Mickey gave his signature raised-eyebrows-and-squished-forehead look, the exact one that she thought made him look a lot older than his years.

“I don’t care, I just wanted to fucking know. And you’re probably the reason I’m going to end up with fucking premature grey hair. Protecting your stupid ass stresses me the fuck out,” Mickey said sarcastically back.

“I can protect myself, asshole,” she objected, punching Mickey as hard as she could and then getting up to go make breakfast. He winced in pain, but other than that pretended that it didn’t hurt even though it hurt like a bitch. “And besides, your hair is never gonna go grey. Me and you have hair from mom’s side. We won’t go grey until we’re at least eighty-five. Unless they fucking dyed it.. but we have a while to figure that one out.”

Mickey didn’t respond. Instead, he preoccupied himself with his phone. He had been getting texts from Ian all day that said things like _“Ready for tonight? :)”_ and _“8 more hours!”_. He hadn’t been responding, but looking at the texts made his stomach turn in the best ways - the way he’d only ever felt with Ian.

“So you seeing Ian again?” Mandy broke the silence, yelling from the kitchen.

“You seeing the brother again?” Mickey asked, avoiding Mandy’s question.

“Don’t fucking dodge my question!” She yelled back.

“I’m not fucking dodging, I’m curious,” he said, still avoiding telling her about the evening’s plans.

“I don’t know, maybe.”

\------

The afternoon didn’t go nearly the way Mickey had wanted it to or had planned it to be. At around one o’clock his friend Mark called him, and things never went the way they were planned to be if Mark had news.

“Dude, you’ll never fucking believe it. I saw that fucking prick Vinnie by that fuckin’ Chinese buffet or whatever the fuck you call it,” Mark began, saying it like it was the greatest thing he’d ever heard. “He was fuckin’ talking to Chuck. So you know what I did? I fuckin’ eavesdropped. Is that what it’s called? Anyway, I heard him say something about coming back later to the restaurant while they were making small talk and shit. I figured you and your brothers would want to know. Fuckin’ kill that piece of shit.”

“Fuck, really?” Mickey asked. Of fucking course Vinnie would be back in the area when he actually had shit to do. Because every fucking god out there hated him. “Did he say a time or anything?”

“No, man. You think he was just gonna tell Chuck ‘yeah I’m coming back at five sharp, be there and we can have a fuckin’ meal together and a proper chat like gentlemen’,” Mark said the end of the sentence in an awful imitation of a british accent.

“Well excuse the fuck outta me, Mark,” Mickey sassed back.

“I figured I’d just go down there later and fuckin’ wait. He said tonight so I figured probably after five. I could still do that unless you think you and Iggy and Col got it,” Mark said, unphased by Mickey’s sarcasm.

“Naw, we got it. You can just kindly go fuck yourself while we take care of business,” Mickey said, half joking but hoping that Mark wouldn’t offer to come despite his refusal. Mark would have been offended if Mickey wasn’t the closest thing he had to an actual friend in the area.

“Alright, man, that’s cool. Let me know if you get him, though. I can have a fuckin’ clean up crew in there for you,” Mark said sincerely.

“That’s nice of you, man,” Mickey laughed. “I’ll let you know, dumbass.”

They hung up and Mickey spent the next few hours more nervous than he was before. He couldn’t believe he was going to try to kill someone before he went on a fucking date. He waited until five to see if his brothers would come home (he had no idea where they were) but they didn’t, so he stuck his Beretta in his waistband and headed out.

****  


\-------

Mickey walked past the window of _Chang’s_ and spotted Vinnie immediately. The greasy fucker was eating with Chuck - surprise of all surprises, they actually had a meal together. Who would’ve thought?

The alley near the restaurant was the only place he could hide and wait it out, so he did. By the time Vinnie walked out of the restaurant and parted ways with Chuck, it was almost six. Thankfully he knew Mark could cover him so he didn’t have to clean anything up, but he was still panicking over everything. He pinched himself on the hand to stop himself from thinking about it, then followed Vinnie.  

After a few blocks of keeping a low profile, Vinnie turned down an alley - probably a shortcut for him but a huge relief to Mickey. Mickey caught up with Vinnie in the alley, but knew he couldn’t possibly take the guy without the gun.

“Hey, fucker!” Mickey said, not more than a few feet behind Vinnie. He smirked at the douchebag that messed with Mandy, clenched his fist, drew back, and landed a right hook on the guy’s jaw.

He’d hoped that the blow would give him time to draw his gun, but the guy recovered quickly with a hand to his face. Mickey had at least done some damage, blood oozing from a cut on his face.

“What the fuck?” Vinnie said, dabbing the cut on his jawline with his hand. “You made me bleed, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Don’t remember me, huh? Fucking prick,” Mickey said, slowly moving his hand to his gun, not wanting to pull it too quickly. If he’s obvious about it, Vinnie would have the advantage. “You mess with my sister, you mess with me, stupid motherfucker.”

“Oh, you’re Mandy’s brother aren’t you? I couldn’t really tell in this lighting - alleys are weirdly dark all the time, aren’t they? - but you guys both definitely have the same features. Although I can’t tell if you look more like a girl or she looks more like a man,” Vinnie sneered and chuckled at his own joke. Mickey wanted to kill this guy, and he wanted to kill him now. He couldn’t fucking deal with Vinnie.

Mickey grabbed the gun from his waistband and pulled it on Vinnie, but he was too close and Vinnie swung and knocked the gun out of Mickey’s hand.

“Really?” Vinnie said and cocked his head in a way that implied Mickey was pathetic. He clenched both of his fists and punched Mickey directly in the center of his face. Mickey grabbed at his nose. He wasn’t sure if it was broken, but it fucking hurt. At that moment, Vinnie threw a left hook at Mickey’s jaw. The blow was so overwhelming that Mickey fell to the ground, wincing in pain. “You thought that would work?”

“Fuck you,” Mickey said, spitting blood onto Vinnie. The taste of blood in his mouth was a familiar one, but when he tasted it he used it to his advantage. The spit distracted Vinnie for a second and Mickey swung his leg, almost knocking him over. He caught himself, though, and promptly kicked Mickey in the ribs.

Mickey groaned in pain as he laid on his side on the ground. Vinnie stood there smug, proud of how easy the fight with Mickey was.

“Had enough, pussy?” Vinnie smirked at Mickey, who was now trying to stand up. Vinnie’s knee found Mickey’s chin and Mickey fell onto the pavement, mumbling expletives. “Apparently not.”

Vinnie continued to kick Mickey in the ribs and when he was bored with that he kicked Mickey in the face. The hit gouged a cut in his cheek and the loss of blood he was currently dealing with made his vision hazy, but he couldn’t tell if it was just his eyes or if there was blood in his eyes.

The last thing Mickey remembered before he passed out was hearing Vinnie laugh and walk away, and thinking that he was going to kill Vinnie if he had to travel the whole fucking universe to do it.

 


	11. First date? Second date? Who the fuck knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little bit graphic too, but not too bad. Enjoy!

“Is this okay? Fuck, I need to calm down.”

Ian was standing in front of the full length mirror that Skylar had brought over, fretting over his outfit. It was a t-shirt and nice jeans, and he couldn’t tell if he felt underdressed or overdressed. He ran his hand through his hair a couple times and turned to face a bored looking Lip and an overenthusiastic Sky.

“It’s a movie theater in the fucking South Side, the fact that you aren’t packing heat is all I’m concerned about,” Lip said, giving his brother a once-over.

“I’m not bringing a gun on a fucking date, okay? Besides, I’m sure he’ll have one,” Ian said nonchalantly.

“You look perfect, stop fuckin’ touching your hair,” Sky added from her place next to Lip on Ian’s bed. “Seriously, you’re gonna end up with sex hair. That’s supposed to happen after the date, not before.”

“Dude, it’s fine,” Lip reassured Ian, and surprisingly his sure tone helped Ian calm down.

“Let’s go, if we’re getting something to eat beforehand we should leave now. It’s like seven.”

“Alright, alright, we can go.”

 

\--------

When Mickey woke up, the first thing he did was check his phone to make sure he didn’t miss the date with Ian. He didn’t know why - when he just had the shit beat out of him - he was was so concerned about missing the date, but he was. He rubbed the caked blood out of his eyes and pulled his phone out of his pocket. The screen read _7:05pm_. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he tried to get up, gripping at his bruised ribs. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, but it still hurt like a bitch. He fell into the brick wall of the building next to him, wincing in pain. He looked around for his gun for a couple minutes but gave up and figured Vinnie had taken it with him. “Goddamn it, why tonight?”

Mickey limped his way home, knowing that even if he made it to the movie he couldn’t do it looking like he did. He hoped that Mandy was home. Luckily, she was.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Mandy said, only sort of acknowledging the condition Mickey was in as he entered the kitchen. The Milkovich men coming home like that wasn’t exactly unusual. She was concerned, of course. She always was. But it wasn’t that big of a deal. All of the men in her family could handle that shit.

“Vinnie happened. Could you help me sew this shit up?” Mickey asked, settling himself on a chair at the kitchen table and gesturing to the gashes on his face with one hand.

“Why can’t you do it yourself?” She asked. She’d help, but he was going to fess up to whatever he’d been hiding that morning.

“I have something to get to in an hour or some shit. Will you fucking help me or what?” Mickey asked, still struggling with the rib pain. It had subsided a little during the walk home, but the bruising was going to hurt for at least a week if it was anything like what’d he’d experienced in the past.

“What thing?”

“I’m meeting up with Gallagher, okay? Can we get this fuckin’ sewing thing moving?”

“Yeah, hold on, I’ll get dad’s kit.”

Surprisingly, Mandy didn’t pry. Which was fucking fantastic. He looked like utter shit, though, so that probably had something to do with it. While Mandy looked for the needles and thread to do an at-home stitching of his face, Mickey got up and got a towel to clean up his face.

He went to the bathroom and soaked the towel in warm water, cleaning up the dried blood and dirt from his face. He was careful to clean around the wounds before dealing with the stinging that came with cleaning the actual wounds. Most of the wounds on his face were easily dealt with and didn’t even need treatment, but the cut right above his left eyebrow definitely needed stitches.

Mickey watched as he washed out the towel, the red running down the drain, and wondered why everything shitty always happened to him when he was about to have something really good in his life.

“Hey, Mick, where do you want to do this?” Mandy said, holding up the sewing kit and some sort of clear alcohol in an unmarked bottle that she’d obviously nabbed from their dad’s cabinet.

“Here’s fine,” he said, dropping the toilet lid and sitting on it while Mandy started cleaning the wound with the mysterious booze. She worked quickly but carefully, closing the wound shut with black thread. Mickey winced in pain as she worked, but he kept surprisingly still.

“There, you’re good,” she said, tying the end. Their whole family was surprisingly good at sewing up wounds like that, and she was kind of used to being the one people went to if they couldn’t do it themselves or were in a rush. She didn’t mind. It kind of made her feel needed, unlike usual. And she was good at it, too.

“Thanks, Mandy,” Mickey said. He wouldn’t say it to her face, but he really appreciated how good she was to him. He moved to get out of the bathroom, trying to pass Mandy in the doorway. She stopped him with both hands on his shoulders.

“Hold up, you’re taking a shower first. You are not seeing Ian when you look and smell like total shit,” she laughed and turned on the water. She left and closed the door behind him while he stripped and got in the shower. She left some of his clean(ish) clothes inside the door and waited for him to get out. She wanted to make sure he was okay.

When Mickey got out of the shower and got dressed, Mandy was waiting in the living room.

“You okay?” she asked, rechecking his stitches then looking him in the eyes.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” he replied, pushing past her to get to his shoes.

“I was just making sure, fucker. You looked like shit and you weren’t walking right and I’m worried about you, kay?”

“I’m fine. And I’m leaving. I’ll be back later,” Mickey said, half-limping out the front door.

“Have fun, asshole. And don’t hurt yourself,” Mandy insisted as he left.

Mickey flipped her the bird as he walked away, and she just laughed. She knew he loved her, but she knew even more that he loved Ian. He wouldn’t have gone tonight if he didn’t. The fact that he loved Ian gave her hope more than anything else did. If someone could make Mickey love them, Mandy had nothing to worry about. She was oddly proud of him.

\--------

Ian watched as Mickey approached the movie theater, somewhat slower than usual. He puffed on a cigarette as he leaned against the brick wall of the building, trying to look casual but in reality looking like a straight up movie-esque douchebag. As Mickey got closer he dropped the cigarette and stamped it out. He noticed Mickey’s bruised and battered face as soon as Mickey got close enough.

“What the fuck happened to you, Mick? You okay?” Ian asked, moving his hand to touch the stitches above Mickey’s left eyebrow. Mickey backed away from Ian’s hand, not wanting him to touch the wound.

“Nothing, can we just go in?” Mickey said, sort of shyly. Or at least Ian perceived it as shyness, but it could have been more reluctance than shyness.

“Yeah, sure,” Ian replied, still giving Mickey a concerned look. He wanted to ask again and again until Mickey told him what happened, but he also didn’t want to push his luck. Just going inside and ignoring the situation for was the better option, so that’s what he decided on. The Milkoviches were always in fights, so it probably wasn’t a big deal anyway. Even if it felt like the end of the world and he wanted to protect Mickey at all costs, they weren’t at that point in their relationship yet. If you could call what they had a relationship.

“What movie we seeing?” Mickey asked casually as they entered the theater side by side.

“I was thinking ‘The Quiet Ones’, if you wanted,” Ian suggested. When Mickey gave him a ‘what the fuck’ look, he clarified. “Sam Claflin’s a fucking babe.”

Mickey rolled his eyes probably more dramatically than he ever had before, but agreed to seeing it. At least Ian didn’t want to see some stupid chick flick.

Ian spent half the movie laughing silently to himself, because the movie was cheesy as fuck in his eyes. Thrillers - actually no, anything that involved supernatural things - were always cheesy to him. He got more thrill from action movies than from thrillers and horror movies. He wasn’t going to say he was never scared by movies, but if it was rated PG-13 he was probably going to laugh at it.

Mickey enjoyed the movie, but it wasn’t exactly scary. He did jump at some parts, but he had personal reasons for that that he wasn’t ever telling anyone because he didn’t want to be seen as a little bitch for being scared by stupid shit.

Halfway through the movie, when the movie was at what Ian calculated to be the darkest part so far, he tried to slip his hand into Mickey’s hand casually. Mickey jerked his hand away from the armrest immediately. Ian just pretended like it didn’t happen. It wasn’t the first time he’d been rejected from something like that.

Mickey, on the other hand, was embarrassed that he had pulled his hand away. It would have been fine, but now it would be awkward for him to try to hold Ian’s hand. He blushed in the darkness of the theater, and fucking hoped that Ian didn’t see him blush. Nothing could stop him like acting like a fucking idiot at that moment, and he figured he was about to die of embarrassment at any moment.

After the movie, they walked out side by side together. Thankfully for Mickey, Ian didn’t try to hold his hand again. That would have been a disaster in itself, and Mickey’s reaction could have made things a lot worse. When they got out of the theater, Ian spoke.

“So when can I see you again?” he asked, pulling a smoke out of his pocket and offering one to Mickey, who gladly took it. They lit up, then Mickey replied.

“This was fun, but it was a one-time deal, Gallagher. I told you, I don’t do dates,” he said, then took a drag of his cig and blew smoke rings. It wasn’t even really to show off, but just something to keep his mind off of what he was saying. He didn’t want to reject Ian, but he knew it was best.

“What about the kiss?” Ian snapped, now angry and letting his cigarette burn as he held it at his side. “You can’t seriously keep telling me it didn’t mean anything.”

“That’s not… fuck, how many times do I have to tell you before you get it through your thick fucking skull?” Mickey said, exasperated. This was stressing him out, lying to Ian. “We’ve gone over this a million fucking times.”

“We’ve gone over what? We haven’t gone over shit, Mickey! This is fucking bullshit. You wouldn’t have gone on this date with me if you didn’t have feelings for me,” Ian snapped back. The conversation was in a hushed tone, but their volumes were gradually growing. At this point, neither of them gave a single fuck what people heard. It was their business and not anyone else’s, and they were far enough away from the entrances to businesses that that wasn’t an issue.

“I went on the date because I didn’t want to get fucking shown up by you, okay? We’re just friends. That’s all we ever were,” Mickey spat, and it fucking killed him inside. He hated pushing Ian away like that.

“Just friends? Fuck you, Mickey Milkovich. I understand that you don’t want to admit your feelings to other people, but you could at least admit them to me. I’m not going to judge you. I accept you and I want you to accept yourself. But if you can’t do that, whatever,” Ian said angrily. He dropped his smoke and left in a huff, leaving Mickey standing alone.

Mickey stood there stunned by Ian’s outburst. He didn’t expect Ian to blow up like that, although he probably should have expected that Ian wouldn’t accept that they were only friends. He was left feeling horrible about everything he said. Nothing he said about not dating and them being only friends was true.

In fact, he thought he may actually love this redhaired freak of nature named Ian Gallagher. Which is what made him feel the worst about everything that had just happened. He couldn’t really deny he felt something anymore. And it was more than a crush; it was deeper than that. Like everything else, he wouldn’t admit the love - not to anyone else, and barely to himself.

Nothing sat right with him. He felt sick about the whole thing, but he couldn’t very well apologize. He had to leave it be. It was what was best for the both of them. Ian Gallagher shouldn’t like Mickey Milkovich, and Mickey sure as hell shouldn’t love Ian. They would both have to get over it. Or Mickey would have to work up the nerve to apologize to Ian. Either one would take a while.

**Walking home that night, he thought about what Mandy would say about the whole thing. Something along the lines of “tell him how you fucking feel, dipshit” was on the right track. She would want him to spill his guts to Ian. When that was her advice before, he’d thought it was total and utter bullshit. Who would want to hear about that shit? And better yet, who even felt that shit in the first place? But now he wasn’t sure if her advice was bullshit. He wasn’t sure about anything anymore, and that was fucking terrifying.**


	12. I guess, if that's what you want.

“Hey, what do you know about the Milkoviches and their fight records? Like, how often does it happen?” Ian asked, leaning heavily against the end of Lip’s lofted bed.

“Why?” Lip asked in return, propping himself up so he could see Ian more clearly.

“I sort of hung out with Mickey last night and…” Ian started.

“Ooo hung out, as in went on a date with?” Lip interrupted, grinning at his little brother.

“I thought so, but apparently he only wants to be friends. I tried to fucking hold his hand and all he said was that we were just friends. He didn’t explain anything. He’s like a book that’s fucking glued shut.”

“Well you haven’t exactly known him for that long, Ian,” Lip pointed out, giving reason to Mickey’s reluctance. Ian understood that, but he knew Mickey felt something for him. He refused to believe that Mickey didn’t feel the same way he did. He realized that it was probably unhealthy and weirdly stalker-ish, but that’s not how it felt to him. He felt a connection to Mickey. He wasn’t going to push himself on Mickey, but he wasn’t going to give up either.

“I know.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to start out as friends anyway if you’re so into him?”

“I guess so.”

“So why’d you want to know about the fighting?”

“Oh, right. He was sort of beat up pretty badly last night. Home-stitched and everything,” Ian said, bringing the conversation back to the topic at hand and shrugging off Lip’s previous comments. Starting as friends probably was better, but it didn’t feel like that. “I was just wondering if it happened often.”

Even though Mickey said he only wanted to be friends, Ian was still wanted to know if he was okay. He had feelings for Mickey even if Mickey didn’t or wouldn’t admit it. In reality, he would care if they were only friends, too. There had been times when Ian had gotten beaten pretty badly when people at school found out about his sexuality, but that wasn’t stitch worthy. Since that, any time someone he cared about was hit for any reason, Ian started to feel protective. He had before, but now it was more fiercely protective. He didn’t show it all the time, but the feeling was there.

“From what Mandy has told me about her dad it seems like he’s in jail a lot,” Lip shrugged like it was nothing. He’d been with Mandy more than Ian had been with Mickey since the first date. “Seems like this time it’s probably gonna be permanent. Broke probation, accused of murder, and the guy he was accused of killing was his source that supplied lawyers. Kinda like it was planned or something.”

“Oh, fucking great,” Ian said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“What? That’s pretty fucking normal for this part of town, Ian,” Lip replied, rolling back onto his back. “Why the sarcasm?”

“If their family is thrown-in-jail violent I.. well I was going to… I probably shouldn’t push Mickey to tell me his feelings, huh? Probably not good for either of us for different reasons,” Ian said, preoccupying himself with his hands as he said it. Mostly as a distraction for himself, but also so he wouldn’t have to look Lip in the eye. All of a sudden he felt uncomfortable with his words.

“Probably not, lil’ bro. But tell you what?” Lip started, then sat up and jumped off his bed. “If you decide you want to anyway and he hurts you in any way, I’ll beat the shit out of him for you.”

“Yeah I know,” Ian said, giving his brother a small smile. Lip pulled Ian in for a hug, and when they separated he started rummaging through his dresser drawers.

“Just don’t fuck things up too badly with their family. Mandy’s fun and if you fuck that up for me I won’t be happy,” Lip joked, taking his attention away from the drawers and slapping his brother on the stomach. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, I know that, too,” Ian grinned. “I won’t.”

****  
  


\-----

Despite his discussion with Lip, Ian just couldn’t give up on figuring out what was up with Mickey. Not only what happened with the fight, but what was the deal with their family. Their family had a reputation Ian just didn’t like at all, and he couldn’t believe that Mandy and Mickey were anything like their father who seemed like a major dickhead. Ian was nothing like Frank, so it was very possible that Mickey and Mandy weren’t like Terry.

Ian wanted to spend the day at local places like the Alibi and the Kash N Grab, trying to figure out what the hell was up with the Milkoviches. First he asked Kev, because Kev probably knew everyone in Chicago for some odd fucking reason that no one understood.

“Hey, Kev?” Ian said, sitting down on a stool at the bar.

“Yeah? Actually, hold on just a sec,” Kev said while refilling some old drunk’s glass with whatever was on tap. When he was done he stood in front of Ian with the usual look of concern he always got when a young Gallagher came into the bar in the middle of the day.

“What do you know about the Milkoviches? More specifically, what do you know about Terry Milkovich?” Ian said, gladly sipping at the glass Kev has subtly slid to him.

“Terry is a homophobic prick, if that’s what you were wondering about. I mention that because he broke probation one time after he heard some guys talking about Ellen. Who the fuck gets mad about people talking about Ellen?” Kev said, cleaning the counters as they talked. He’d assessed and categorized the conversation as non-concerning at this point.

“Well that’s nice to know, I guess,” Ian said, getting nervous about the whole situation. He kind of felt bad about pushing Mickey the way he did, but Terry was locked up for good as far as anyone knew so that made him feel better. “What about the Milkovich kids?”

“Boys are in and out of juvie, the sister has apparently managed to keep out of that. But they haven’t ever been accused of things anywhere near as bad as the things Terry has done from what I’ve heard. If you ask me, I think they just do what their dad tells them to do,” Kev fed Ian the information he had on the Milkoviches.

“You think they’d ever get themselves into trouble? Like, would they start shit themselves?” Ian inquired. Their history of violence wasn’t helping him calm down at all.

“If someone fucked with someone they cared about, maybe,” Kev confirmed while refilling more glasses.

“Do you think any of them would ever kill someone?” Ian didn’t know where his mind was going, but he didn’t like it. He needed Kev to assure him that Mickey wasn’t going to kill anyone.

“Why, did you fuck with one of them?” Kev asked, returning his full attention to the conversation and leaning with his hands on the bar.

“No, just wondering,” Ian insisted.

“Terry would kill someone. The others probably wouldn’t unless Terry put the gun in their hands and stood there telling them to shoot it. They’re smarter than that, I think. From what I’ve heard,” Kev affirmed.

“Thanks, Kev. Oh, and thanks for the drink,” Ian said as he finished the beer. His hand went to his pocket so he could pay.

“It’s on the house,” Kev started, stopping Ian from paying. “And no problem. See ya, Ian.”

Everything Kev had said was exactly what Ian needed to know. Stopping at the Kash N Grab would be pointless now, considering Linda would probably try to make him work and lord knows Ian didn’t want to talk to Kash. He had everything he needed to understand at least the surface of Mickey. It could take years to know Mickey fully, but now he knew why Mickey was so reluctant to show his feelings.

But everything Kev had said also made Ian feel terrible about what he had said to Mickey the night before. He felt bad that he was trying to push Mickey into being out. He really did. Ian was selfish, though, and did want Mickey to be out. He wanted Mickey to not be afraid of people knowing that he had feelings for Ian. Getting Mickey to show his feelings would take a lot, he knew. He even knew that wanting it didn’t mean getting it, especially for someone in Mickey’s situation. Dreaming wasn’t forbidden, though.

Ian knew that he shouldn’t push Mickey, so he wasn’t going to. If they had to start out as friends, they had to start out as friends. If it took persuading to even go out on dates, he would deal with it. But he wouldn’t push Mickey anymore, not more than maybe nudging him along.

Besides, Mandy would probably nudge him, too. And with slight nudging from both sides, who knows what could happen? Maybe Mickey would give in sooner rather than later. At least, that was what Ian was hoping for.

\------

“So how was everything? Did it go over well?” Mandy asked, sitting on the couch with her feet in her brother’s lap. Mickey had given up trying to make her go away a while ago, and now he just sat and took her badgering.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he replied, trying to tickle Mandy’s feet to get them off of his lap. Apparently, she was immune to tickling.

“Yeah I fucking would, that’s why I asked, dumbass. That’s the point of asking a question. To get an answer. I thought you were smarter than that, Mick,” she kicked Mickey in the side trying to get him to stop tickling her, and it worked. He winced in pain from the previous night’s wounds, sucking in a deep breath.

“Fuck you, Mandy. Fuck, ow,” he wheezed, holding his bruised rib cage.

“Shit, sorry,” she said, taking her feet off of his lap. “But seriously, Mick. Just tell me how it went. Please?”

He actually really wanted to tell her - or someone, at least - about the whole thing. But the fact that it ended in an argument made him not want to, too. The whole night had seemed like something teenage girls would eat up, and that didn’t sit right with Mickey. It was like one of those dumb unrequited love stories, except it wasn’t unrequited and Mickey was just not willing to admit it yet. Which was a whole other brand of cheesy romance movies. He wasn’t willing to admit he was in the middle of a romantic drama to his sister. So he chose silence as his alternative.

“Just fucking tell me, already, jesus christ,” Mandy barked, but Mickey stayed quiet.

“Come on, I don’t have all fucking night. I’m going out with Lip. Come on, Mick,” she pleaded, desperate to get an ounce of information out of her brother.

“I wasn’t exactly sure before, but,” Mickey started, then took a breath. The stress of waiting was killing Mandy.

“Fucking spit it out already,” she nearly screamed.

“I think I may actually fucking like this guy,” Mickey said, breathing out a sigh of relief. It felt nice to tell someone about it. Mandy let out a high pitched squeal that if Mickey wasn’t mistaken, sounded like a dying cat. It only lasted for a second, but that was enough. She clamped her mouth shut and composed herself within the next second. “What the fuck, Mandy?”

“By like, I’m going to go ahead and assume you mean love,” Mandy smiled cheekily at her brother, hardly containing her excitement. She loved that her brother could quite possibly be in love for the first time. It was so unbelievably exciting. She may have grown up in Chicago, but she was still a girl. Thug or not, love was exciting to her.

“Fuck off, Mandy,” Mickey snarled. He acted like what she said was total bullshit, but everyone knew it wasn’t. Not total bullshit at least. Even if he didn’t quite realize it fully, he was madly in love with Ian. He just wasn’t going to say it out loud.

“Yeah, okay then,” Mandy grinned, got up, and made her way to her room to get ready for her ‘date’ with Lip.

As soon as Mandy left the room, Mickey checked his phone. He’d been checking it all day, making sure Ian hadn’t texted. Yeah, that’s how bad it had gotten. He really wanted to apologize to Ian, but at the same time he sort of felt like he wasn’t the one who did wrong. Ian was the one who couldn’t accept being friends. The conflict played itself in Mickey’s head from both sides of the situation and he didn’t know which one of them was right and which was wrong.

Luckily, a text from Ian kept his brain from self-destructing.

_“Hey, Mick. I’m sorry. I really am. I shouldn’t have said that stuff. I hope we can still be friends, if that’s okay.”_

Mickey was relieved - more than relieved - that Ian had texted. That meant he could text back and not feel weird about it. He also wanted Ian to know that they could be more than friends, but it was an awkward time to do that. So he replied in a way that made sense to him.

_“I’m sorry, too, Ian. We can be friends, if that’s what you want. :)”_

Let’s just say Mickey was never exactly the most subtle person, but he wasn’t exactly the least subtle person either. Obviously he knew Ian didn’t want to be friends. He hoped that Ian got the hint.


	13. Friend or Beau

_“Ok so you want to hang out again? As friends? :)”_

Mickey wasn’t sure how to reply to that. It had taken Ian half an hour to reply to the text Mickey had sent, and he had been concerned that Ian hadn’t gotten it or that he didn’t get the hint. Did this text mean he did get the hint? Mickey figured the only proper way to respond was to say yes and see where it went.

_“Sure, I guess”_

He guessed? Ian hoped he had taken Mickey’s text the right way. He sat alone in his room staring at the messages Mickey had sent him. It had taken so long for him to work up a reply, just because he didn’t know if Mickey was hinting that he wanted to be more than friends or if the smile in the text was just friendly. Ian assumed that Mickey wanted to be more than friends, since obviously that’s what he wanted and Mickey had said ‘if that’s what you want’. God, he hoped he wasn’t being totally weird about the whole thing.

_“Wanna come over here for another movie?”_

The last time a movie was watched at the Gallagher’s house, it hadn’t worked out so well. Then again, Mickey wasn’t as open to the dating thing then as he is now. Even though it was only a couple days ago. A lot had happened and he had had a lot of time to think about things. Maybe this time it wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if it was only the two of them.

_“As long as Mandy and Lip aren’t invited this time.”_

Ian couldn’t agree more with that. He didn’t especially want Lip and Mandy intruding on them this time, either.

_“Obviously.”_

_“So when?”_

_“I work tomorrow, but maybe after that?”_

_“Yeah, okay. That works. What time is that tho, dumbass?”_

_“Oh, right. 8.”_

It was a good thing they were just texting, because Ian was totally embarrassed. Clearly Mickey had no way of knowing his schedule. Ian’s face was beet red as he sent his last text, laughing at his dumb mistake.

Mickey, on the other hand, thought it was adorable that Ian just thought he’d know his schedule. And he caught himself thinking it was adorable, and mentally kicked himself for it. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking that Ian was cute or adorable or anything like that, but he couldn’t help himself. The dude was adorable, okay?

_“Okay, see you then.”_

_“See ya ;)”_

Oh god, Ian had made the awful mistake before he realized it. He sent the text with a fucking winky face. Jesus christ, that made him want to crawl into a deep and dark hole for a while. He couldn’t fix it. Pretending it didn’t happen was the best route to go, and hopefully Mickey wouldn’t make a big deal out of it for him the next day.

Mickey stared at the screen of his phone blinking rapidly, wondering if the winky face in Ian’s text had actually happened. After a while he couldn’t ignore that it had. Obviously Ian wasn’t going to be as subtle as Mickey had tried to be, and Mickey supposed that was okay for now. But jesus, he had actually sent Mickey a winky face. Mickey’s faced flushed whenever he looked at it, and he was sure it would have the same effect on him for at least the next twenty-four hours. Avoiding his phone would be impossible, so his day was going to be hard.

****  
  


\------

****  
  


“I know the idea is sort of dumb, but it’s fucking great, trust me.”

Ian plopped down next to Mickey on the couch and offered him a beer. Mickey gladly took it and took a drink off of the already opened beer. Ian took a swig off of his, too.

“Gerard Butler? And fuckin’ Michael C. Hall? I’m sure it’ll be at least fucking decent with those two. They’re fucking badasses,” Mickey assured Ian. The movie did sound fucking idiotic from what Ian had said, but with those two actors in it it couldn’t possibly be too horrible. For all Mickey knew, Ian was just a horrible summarizer and the movie was actually fantastic. He didn’t bother to read the case’s summary, so hopefully that was the cast.

“I watched it for Gerard but Michael is great, too. Logan Lerman is so young in this movie,” Ian explained as he skipped through the trailers with the remote. “But still good looking.”

Mickey had arrived about half an hour earlier and had ‘made himself at home’ like Ian suggested. Getting as comfortable as he could in their living room was important to him, because there was no way he was getting through the whole movie if he wasn’t comfortable. He wasn’t used to just hanging out in someone else’s living room, but their house was similar to his own so it wasn’t too hard.

When he first sat down he automatically kicked his feet up onto the couch. Making himself at home was easier than expected as Ian had gone to make popcorn (even though Mickey had insisted that he didn’t have to) and grab beer for the two of them. As soon as Ian came back he didn’t really know what to do with his feet, so he let them fall to the ground.

Ian insisted that it was fine and that there was still room for him, but Mickey didn’t really want to sit so far away from Ian. So he kept his feet down and when Ian sat down they were comfortably next to each other with an amount of space in between them that didn’t exactly say ‘just friends’ but also didn’t exactly say ‘on a date’ either. Just enough room that neither of them felt weird about it.

Now that the movie was starting, Ian had decided to stay quiet. Despite the fact that he wanted to get closer with Mickey, he also kind of wanted to watch the movie. And he wanted Mickey to see it so they had something to talk about that didn’t have to do with their actual lives. Because their lives were both pretty fucked up, and he knew that neither one of them was going to be completely willing to delve into their back stories.

Both of them were silent as they got into the movie, and Ian didn’t even thinking about what he was doing when he slipped his hand into Mickey’s. Mickey’s hand had been relaxed in between them, and it seemed like a natural move to hold hands. Hell, they were basically on a date even though they both had said ‘as friends’.

Mickey’s reaction to the gesture was unexpected, too. At first, he tensed under Ian’s grip. And Ian could feel it, too, but didn’t say anything. But Mickey realized that they were not in public and no one else was home, so he relaxed.

Ian felt Mickey relax and turned to smile at Mickey. Mickey’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t fully return the smile. Which was fine with Ian, since they were fucking holding hands and that was a step towards success. He spent the rest of the movie tracing circles into the back of Mickey’s hand with his thumb, and every once in a while glancing down at their clasped hands to make sure it was real.

It was unfucking believable to Mickey that he was even allowing Ian to hold his hand, let alone trace fucking circles on the back of it. The most unbelievable part to him was that he loved every second of it. It wasn’t even really one of those cliches for him. To him, Ian holding his hand made everything more real. It made Ian more real. Ian was there with him, and Ian accepted him. Holding hands always seemed like something really fucking childish to him, but now he was enjoying it. It was like a reminder that Ian was actually next to him and it wasn’t a figment of his imagination. And Ian actually wanted to do stupid couple things, like holding hands, with him.  

When the movie ended, they sat there in silence for a while. Not letting go of each other and savoring the moment. Because once the silence was broken, the moment would be gone. Neither of them wanted that, but it had to happen.

“That movie was really fucking good,” Mickey said, letting go of Ian’s hand. Their hands had gotten really sweaty, so he wiped the moisture on his pant leg. Ian did the same.

“I fucking told you, didn’t I?” Ian grinned, looking at Mickey.

“Yeah, I didn’t say I didn’t believe you, did I? Smartass,” Mickey returned, smiling back.

“You implied it,” Ian laughed, trying to back himself up.

“Sure I did.”

\------

Mickey said goodbye and left soon after the movie ended, and Lip and Mandy entered from the back door almost immediately after.

“Perfect timing, Lip. Mickey just left,” Ian told his brother as he and Mandy came through the living room.

“Nah, we were waiting for him to leave,” Lip said.

“Oh, really?” Ian questioned, but was happy Lip hadn’t barged in while they were watching the movie. “How long were you out there?”

“Long enough to see you guys holding hands. We were back before the movie ended,” Lip recalled. “Why didn’t he stay?”

“Who the fuck knows. I get such mixed signals from him. Mandy, I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” Ian redirected his comments to Mandy, who was latched onto Lip’s side like a leech at the moment.

“He’s not that bad. And he’s really into you, too. I’ve told you that. He cares a lot about people but won’t ever show it. I don’t even think he’s told me he loves me and we’re siblings. But maybe you’ll change him. Because he definitely likes you, that’s for sure. He wouldn’t act the way he does if he didn’t,” she promised, grabbing Lip’s hand and pulling him up the stairs.

“I sure fucking hope so,” Ian muttered under his breath, relieved slightly by what Mandy had said.

All in all, the night had gone even better than Ian had expected. Thankfully. And there was no way he was going to let the relationship between him and Mickey go backwards again. There was only forward from then on.

\------

“I swear to god, guys, he fucking smiled at me. He let me hold his fucking hand. Last time I tried I thought he was going to punch me in the face, but we were in the theater and he probably has probation he doesn’t want to break or some shit.”

Ian was sitting on Lip’s bed while he blathered on about the night before, while Skylar and Lip sat on Ian’s bed. They were a little closer than they normally sat, but Ian barely noticed through his haze of happiness. He was like a fucking giggling school girl about the whole thing. If it was just Lip he wouldn’t be as bubbly about it, but with Sky around he couldn’t help it.

“That’s great, Ian,” Lip replied sarcastically and smiled, but Ian barely noticed the sarcasm. Again, the haze clouded his senses.

“Really great, Ian. Honestly I’m really fucking happy for you. I wish a guy was as into me as you are into Mickey. Or vice versa, really. Because I’ve seen the looks he’s given you in person and it’s fucking wondrous, I’d say,” Sky giggled a little, glancing at Lip. Lip glanced back when she looked away. They’d been exchanging these looks all night, but Ian hadn’t noticed and wasn’t going to. He never knew what was going on between them, but he had suspected Sky liked Lip for a while. Interfering wouldn’t be happening now anyway, but he probably wouldn’t in any situation. His current Mickey situation was sort of in the way of all of his other problems at the moment.

“I’m glad you think so, because he’s shitty at telling me how he feels,” Ian sighed, laying back on the bed.

“Of course I think so. I’ve thought so since the first time you told me about him. And you’re damn fucking right I can confirm it now,” Skylar said, laying down on Ian’s bed and throwing her legs up on Lip’s lap.

“If he’s anything like Mandy, it’ll take a lot to get anything out of him. I had to pry pretty hard to get facts out of her. They are damn mysterious,” Lip added.

“I’ll get it out of him. I can already tell I’m rubbing off on him,” Ian smiled at the ceiling at the thought of rubbing off on Mickey. In more than one way. Fuck, thinking about Mickey was dangerous.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m pretty sure you rubbed your scent on him the minute you two met. He probably fucking jacks off to the thought of kissing the beautiful ginger man from the frat party,” Sky remarked, smug with herself.

“Jesus christ, Sky. Image very much not needed,” Lip laughed, and he was joined by the laughter of the other two in the room.

\------

“So you two fuckheads don’t have any fucking clue as to where Vinnie could have gone? No one’s seen him since he tried to bash my skull in.”

Mickey sat down at the kitchen table with Iggy and Colin as they fiddled with various pieces of weaponry, as per usual. He rested and folded his hands on the table as he waited for a reply, looking back and forth between his brothers.

“No, haven’t seen him either,” Colin said.

“Hence the ‘no one’ part in the ‘no one’s seen him’, Mick,” Iggy added.

“You know what? Fuck you. Fuck you both,” Mickey sassed, his eyebrows crinkling in the middle.

“No thanks,” Colin sassed back.

“Yeah, I’d rather not. But thanks for the offer, I guess,” Iggy smirked at his brother, laughing a little.

“Fuck off,” Mickey snapped. The comments had been meant to be harmless, but it made Mickey feel weird about everything. Obviously they couldn’t know. Could they? Unless Mandy told them. It didn’t seem like it, though, so he ignored the comments and pushed them to the back of his mind as Mandy entered the kitchen. “You seen him, Mandy? He hasn’t tried fucking with you again or anything?”

“Haven’t seen him, and don’t really care. He hasn’t come back since I kicked his ass out and I don’t expect to see him ever again,” she said, grabbing ingredients for grilled cheese sandwiches out of the fridge and pantry. It was basically the only food they had in the house at the moment, so she didn’t really have to do much digging.

“Don’t fucking worry about seeing him again. I’ll make sure he never shows his face in Chicago ever again. Maybe not even fuckin’ Illinois. Depends on how much he fucking begs,” Mickey said, anger filling him.

No prick like Vinnie would mess with both him and Mandy and get away with it, he knew that for sure. He’d have to use one of Terry’s guns, but that wasn’t a problem. Colin had fixed up most of the ones that had been damaged. He didn’t care if it wasn’t efficient, guns were just easiest. He didn’t care if he got prison time, not when it meant getting rid of scum like Vinnie.

“Oh,” Mickey added as Mandy started melting butter in their frying pan. “And if you go anywhere, take Lip or whatever the fuck his name is with you. I know you guys have been hanging out… or fucking or whatever. Anyway, if you’re with him Vinnie might not be as willing to fuck with you in public.”

“Yeah, sure,” she agreed, sticking her sandwiches side-by-side in the pan. “I will.”

Mickey was relieved she agreed to the whole thing. It seemed a little dramatic as he said it, but he figured it was necessary. At least until the whole thing with Vinnie blew over, which he had no idea when that would be. But the point was to keep her safe, because obviously if he had a personal vendetta against Vinnie and was searching for him he couldn’t exactly protect Mandy. And from what he’d seen, Lip was pretty capable of being protective. He would have to do.

**For now, Mickey had a fucking mission to accomplish and having to protect Mandy wasn’t going to get in the way. Protecting his family was the whole reason he was after this guy in the first place, and now it was personal. He was going to fucking kill this guy if it took him months to do it. It was only to scare him before, but now it was much more.**


	14. Not Again

“Yeah, yo, Mark, will you shut the fuck up for a minute and let me talk?”

After being on the phone with Mark for probably a total of 15 minutes now - way more than he would have liked - Mickey finally got a word in edgewise. Mark was a talker and it was really fucking hard to deal with, especially when there was something important to talk about.

“Oh fuck, sorry bro, it’s been a while,” Mark mumbled through the phone.

“It’s been less than a fucking week. Now let me ask you my fucking question, kay?” Mickey grumbled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, shoot, bro,” Mark allowed, yet again unphased by the tone of Mickey’s voice. Like usual. If Mark wasn’t so dumb most of the time he probably wouldn’t be friends with a sarcastic ass like Mickey, but luckily for Mickey he was stupid in all the ways he needed to be friends with him.

“Have you seen Vinnie around? Or do you want to help me look for him?” Mickey asked as politely as he could, which actually wasn’t very polite it was just less sarcastic than usual.

“Nah, haven’t seen him. But I could help you look. What you want him for, anyway? He’s a dumb prick,” Mark responded, curious.

“Exactly why I want the fucker. He fucked with Mandy and then fucked me up pretty badly. And you know what happens when people fuck with my face and my family,” Mickey chuckled a little through the phone. Of course Mark knew. Everyone knew. They’d met or heard about Terry, clearly it wasn’t much different for the Milkovich children.

“Yeah, I know. So helping requires what exactly? Want me to actually come with you or do you want me to use my sources and spread ‘em out so it goes faster?” Mark inquired, already mentally preparing plans for a search.

“What do you think, fuckhead? The faster the better, right?” Mickey said frustrated from the other end of the line.

“I suppose, yeah. I’ll get on that then. Let you know when we get him, yeah?” Mark needed confirmation, although he already knew the answer to that dumb question. And Mickey knew he knew, too.

“Fuck off, Mark,” Mickey sighed through the phone. He hung up when he heard Mark trying to hide snickering by holding his hand over his phone’s speaker.

\-------

The next few days were spent - for the most part - waiting for news on whether or not Vinnie was found. Of course Mickey looked a bit, too, but mostly he waited. He spent his hours at home or at the bar because he wasn’t exactly a social butterfly who always had things to do. Most of the time was spent watching movies with Mandy or texting Ian, who had so much work to do at the Kash N Grab because of a recent burglary that they couldn’t really hang out.

The texting was fun but wasn’t the same as hanging out, obviously. And watching movies with Mandy could sometimes be awful because most of the time she had so many questions about the movie - even if she’d seen it before - that it wasn’t even relaxing anymore. It was sort of like a pop quiz was like in school, except Mandy had more questions than any pop quiz would ever have. Actually, after five or six movies during those few days Mickey would have preferred taking twelve quizzes in a row to answering Mandy’s questions.

Thankfully after the last movie Mark called Mickey back to give him the news.

“Oh, thank fucking jesus. Tell me you have something for me,” Mickey said, voice full of relief that he was finally going to be pulled away from Mandy’s constant stream of questions that weren’t even relevant to the movies’ plot at all (shit like ‘do you think it would have been better if Morgan Freeman was in it?’).

“Yeah, I do, bro. Alvarez and Jim heard Vinnie was in the North Side a couple of days ago. Said that he’s staying at some house that’s like a block away from the South Side but is technically the North Side, I guess. I don’t really know. Those two don’t fucking make sense. Anyway, Alvarez followed Vinnie from the shithouse to this area of restaurants and said he went in somewhere with someone like five minutes ago. Said if you hurry up you’ll make it there in time, I guess it’ll probably take them a while. Looked like they were going to actually eat.”

“Thank god,” Mickey said, putting his shoes back on as he held the phone between his cheek and his shoulder.

“God ain’t got nothing to do with it, Mick,” Mark responded, with a shit-eating grin on his face that Mickey could practically see through the phone. “But hold on, I’ll text you the address.”

As soon as Mickey got the address and tucked one of Terry’s guns into the waistband of his jeans, he was out the door and walking quickly to where Alvarez had told Mark that Vinnie was. He probably would have ran, but he didn’t want to risk being seen as suspicious running through the streets in the dark. He also didn’t want to risk the gun dropping out of his pants, which was probably the bigger concern at the time.

Alvarez was standing across the street from the restaurant, so Mickey met up with him. They exchanged head nods as greetings, then Mickey dove into the point of the whole ordeal.

“So Vinnie is in there? How long’s it been?” he asked a bored-looking Alvarez.

“Not sure, don’t have a clock on me. Probably forty-five minutes, maybe longer. Took you fucking long enough to get down here, huh?” Alvarez sassed, raising his head a little to stare Mickey down. He’d been standing across the street for almost an hour and he didn’t even have a phone on him anymore; he’d given it to Jim to take on a run while he’d stayed and waited for Mickey.

“Traffic,” Mickey said, shrugging in apology.

“Yeah, okay. I’m out of here, Mick. Good luck with that shit,” Alvarez said, flicking Mickey off over his shoulder as he walked away.

“Fuck you, too, Al!” Mickey joked as he watched Alvarez leave.

He leaned against the front wall of some shop that was closed down while he watched the restaurant Vinnie was supposedly in. His hands found a pack of cigarettes and he lit one up while he waited, drawing in deep breaths and savoring the feeling of the smoke in his lungs. Sometimes cigarettes made him feel like shit, but on this cool spring night they had optimal effect on him. It took away the stress of Vinnie, and more importantly it helped cover the stress of how hard he had been falling for Ian recently.

Having the quiet time out in the town was nice, but his thoughts kept drifting to Ian when they should have been on what he was going to do to Vinnie. The stupid thing about it - well besides that he was thinking about Ian in the first place, because that was definitely stupid - was that he and Ian barely knew each other and they hadn’t even fucked, yet he oddly felt more comfortable about Ian than he’d felt with the dude he’d fucked before. Which shouldn’t be the case at all. And he kept thinking about how comfortable Ian’s presence was, and how he wanted to feel that comfortable all the time.

Mickey shook the thoughts from his mind when he saw Vinnie leave the restaurant by himself. They were in a place that wasn’t exactly hidden, so he decided following until they were a little more hidden was the best plan of action. Vinnie was taking all main roads, not turning down alleys this time. Every once in a while he would turn around, and Mickey would duck into a business or an alley for a second until it was safe to continue to follow.

Just when he thought he’d be able to get close enough to Vinnie to do some damage without calling attention to himself, Mickey heard two familiar voices coming from a little ways ahead of him.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself when he realized who the voices were coming from. Ian and Skylar were standing under a streetlight up ahead of him, sharing some kind of drink while talking about some party Skylar had been to while Ian was with Mickey the other night.

He immediately lost interest in following Vinnie and turned to start walking the other way, trying to avoid talking to Ian.

Ian, however, turned his head away from Skylar at just right time to see Mickey in what little light was coming from businesses and streetlights. Skylar noticed right away who Ian was looking at, and stopped talking immediately.

“Mickey?” Ian asked, his voice filling the silence of the evening. At the same moment a breeze blew over their skin, and mixing that with Ian’s voice made the hairs on Mickey’s arms stand on end. Mickey stopped dead in his tracks, because obviously being rude to Ian before had affected him more than Ian. He turned around, preparing himself for whatever Ian was going to say to him.

“Ian,” Mickey said matter-of-factly. Ian and Skylar joined Mickey by the abandoned building between a bookstore and a coffee shop.

“What are you doing out here? Not your usual neighborhood, is it?” Ian pried. Mickey looked around Ian - well, tried to - to see if he could spot where Vinnie had gone while he’d gotten distracted.

“No, I’m sort of really fucking busy right now, though, actually. So I’m just gonna go,” Mickey replied, turning to leave since he had definitely lost Vinnie yet again.

“Wait,” Ian said, stopping Mickey with a hand on his arm. The contact sent goosebumps spreading across Mickey’s skin, and he shook Ian off to try to hide that. Ian backed off, but kept talking. “You always say you’re fucking busy, but I have a feeling you just don’t want to be seen talking to me or some shit.”

“Actually, I’m not busy anymore,” Mickey started, facing Ian and Skylar again. “But I’m not exactly in the mood to fucking chat, okay?”

“Um, okay? Is it okay if I text you later, then?” Ian said, half annoyed and half concerned.

“Yeah, I guess,” Mickey allowed. Ian breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently whatever was going on with Mickey, it wasn’t because of him.

Mickey gave Ian a little half-smile through his fidgeting. He really wanted to avoid talking to Ian right now, especially because he didn’t want Ian to know he was basically planning to kill someone. He was pretty sure Ian wouldn’t be happy with that. He turned to walk away, and Ian didn’t stop him this time.

“Bye, Mick,” Ian said as Mickey left.

“Yeah, see ya,” Mickey replied, not even turning his head back while he said it.

Avoiding telling Ian things was hard, but necessary. And Ian didn’t seem to realize yet that Mickey wasn’t telling him something, so he was on the right track for now.

Skylar watched as Mickey left, then walked slowly back to the streetlight with Ian trailing along behind her even slower. She leaned against the streetlight and pulled out a smoke, offering one to Ian. He declined the offer with a shake of his head and they stood there in silence while she lit her cigarette and took a careful pull off it.

“Told you,” she said, blowing the smoke from her lungs out slowly but surely. “Why did you ever fucking doubt me?”

“I didn’t, really. I just could never figure out how you always knew where everyone was going to be. And I don’t know how you make our conversations look so relaxed, either. When I saw that it was actually him, I almost fucking pissed myself,” Ian said, standing next to Sky with his hands in his pockets, trying to avoid breathing in too much of her secondhand smoke.

“I told you, Ian, I have my ways. Don’t fucking ask what those ways are, you know if I tell you I’ll have people all over me. I don’t want to piss my sources off. They’re discreet and they also know when they’ve been played,” Skylar informed Ian, again.

“I know, I know,” Ian grumbled, sort of mad that Skylar could never tell him anything about how she knew so much. “Did Mickey seem a little off to you?”

“It sort of seemed to me like he may have been following someone. I mean, otherwise how would we have had enough time to come plant ourselves here? Plus, he sort of looked around you when he first saw us, like he was looking for someone that was behind you. I don’t know, though. Do you know why he’d be following someone?” she deduced, then asked as she knocked the ashes off the end of her cig.

“No clue, Sky. No fucking clue,” Ian replied, sighing and leaning against another side of the streetlight next to Skylar.

“So,” Ian started to switch topics while Sky stomped out her cigarette. “If we were going to be pseudo-stalking the guy you liked, where would we be going? Probably not here, I’m assuming.”

“Oh,” Sky said, blushing a little, which was weird because Skylar rarely blushed when talking about guys. “Um, well. Your house, actually.”

She may have been blushing, but at least she wasn’t afraid to tell Ian what was up even in the most awkward of situations.

“My house?” Ian asked. The statement had automatically made sense to him, but he wanted to confirm it. Of course she liked Lip. What girl didn’t like Lip? He didn’t blame her at all. It was a little weird, but nothing Ian wasn’t willing to deal with. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed them acting differently towards each other recently, but now that he was thinking about it he knew they had been different.

While he was dealing with his feelings for Mickey, he hadn’t even been paying attention to Skylar’s feelings. All he could think was now that he knew, he would have to make sure Lip didn’t hurt Sky. Or vice versa, for that matter. Skylar could be rough on relationships when she was fully invested in them.

“Yeah, Lip. I sort of like him. I think he likes me, too. What do you think?” She asked. She stopped leaning on the streetlight in order to fully face Ian so she knew his answer was genuine.

“I think,” he began, holding one of Skylar’s hands with both of his. “That Lip would be really damn lucky to have you, and if he doesn’t like you he doesn’t know what he’s missing. And if he does like you, I’m going to have to fuck with him about this.”

They both laughed, and linked hands while they left their little haven under the lamppost. They walked back to the Gallagher house like that. When Ian stopped thinking about how weird the Skylar and Lip thing was on their walk home, he thought about what Mickey was doing down there. He hoped it didn’t have anything to do with how beat up Mickey was the other night.

 


	15. This Time It's For Real

_“You wanna go to the movies again or something?”_

Mickey had been lounging on the couch in the living room when he got the text from Ian. The problem with getting the text was that he wanted to, but he already felt like he’d gone too far with the whole hand-holding thing the other night (how could he allow that?) and now he didn’t especially want to go on ‘dates’ with Ian purely because he was afraid it’d become a regular thing. Regular ‘dates’ were not the Milkovich way unless the dates consisted solely of sex, which clearly wasn’t happening with Ian right now even though he was pretty sure it was a possibility.

Obviously both of them were carefully circling around the other and it wasn’t going to lead anywhere unless Mickey made it clear that he wanted it to be more. He wasn’t comfortable with doing that right now, mostly due to paranoia instilled in him by Terry. The paranoia was what had been keeping him distant from Ian from the beginning, but he never fully understood that. It was also what kept him from agreeing to the date with Ian.

_“No, busy.”_

He kept his reply short and sweet, and as soon as he sent it Mandy walked into the room and leaned over the back of the couch.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Mandy snarled, seeing that Mickey was trying to decline a date with Ian.

“Nothing,” Mickey snarked back, shoving his phone back in his pocket without waiting for Ian’s reply.

“Seriously, Mick?” Mandy sassed, raising her eyebrows and placing a hand on her hip as she glared at her brother. She moved from behind the couch to in front of Mickey, keeping her eyes locked on him.

“What? It’s not like I’m actually fucking interested in him like that, Mandy,” Mickey snapped, although it was clear to everyone that that was total bullshit.

“Why are you acting so interested, then? You’re fucking leading him on, Mick, and if you aren’t actually interested like you say then why would you be such a dick about it? Why would you play along with him if you don’t like him like that? For fuck’s sake, Mickey, I know you. If you weren’t interested, you’d let him know,” Mandy said, voice raised above normal volumes now. She was actually really pissed off at Mickey.

“It’d just be fucking nice to have a guy friend that I can fucking talk to about this shit, okay? Why do you think it’s not fucking okay for me to have a gay friend?” Mickey yelled. He felt really weird about saying ‘gay’. It was rare for him, especially growing up around Terry, to say something so politically correct. His weirdness with saying it didn’t really make much of a difference when he was trying to make his point, though.

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me, dude? Stop changing your fucking mind about Ian. Either you like him or you don’t. You’re friends or you’re more. Don’t try to fucking tell me that you don’t have feelings for him, though. It’s clear as fucking day that you like him. More than like. I can see it in the way you looked at him the first time we went over to their house. I can see it when he fucking texts you. It’s killing you to not be with him. You mope around the house when you aren’t,” Mandy started, and stuck her hand up to shush Mickey when he tried to interrupt and say that he didn’t mope.

“Fucking don’t, Mickey. You never do anything anymore. You used to never be home, now the only time you leave is when you hear Vinnie is in the neighborhood. You never even went on dates before Ian. Obviously he has some kind of affect on you. It’s so obvious. You have feelings for him.”

“So what if I fuckin’ did? It’s not like I can fucking act on it,” he said, somewhat defeated by Mandy’s words.

“So… when we were high you can talk to me and open up to me about how you think you’re gay and shit, and you ask me to find someone you can experiment with, but now you can’t even act on feelings you have for someone? Like, you can’t act on actual feelings but you can act on nothing whatsoever? How the fuck does that make sense?” Mandy said, furious with Mickey’s attitude.

“Fuck buddies are different. I could never have… I could never have a fucking boyfriend, okay? Not in this damn neighborhood, not around these fucking people. Plus I’d be fucking shitty at relationships, anyway.”

“I’m going to let you in on a something, Mickey. First of all, no one gives a shit who you fuck except dad, and he’s in prison for the rest of his damn life if we’re lucky. And second of all, you haven’t been good at relationships in the past because you haven’t found someone that you actually fucking like. You’ve always been all about the fucking, avoiding feeling all together. Try feeling for once. It may end up being the best damn thing that’s ever happened to you,” Mandy said, ending her pep talk. She left Mickey with that and left to get ready to go out.

Mickey thought about what she said for a long time. Probably a full hour, well past when Mandy left the house that afternoon. And he knew that she was right. She was usually right when it came to relationship shit. He didn’t know if he wanted to accept it, but he knew that she was right. It’d be really hard to let himself feel openly, but he could try it. After thinking about it for a while, he decided to text Ian back.

_“I changed my plans. I’ll go with you.”_

\----

Ian heard the knock on his door fifteen minutes before they were supposed to leave, which was a good thing in more than one way. For one, he was already ready so Mickey being there early would mean they could leave earlier and wouldn’t have to rush on their walk. Secondly, Mickey being there early meant that he was as excited about the date as Ian was. Or at least he was acting like it, which was something.

He pulled the door open to reveal a slightly-cleaner-than-usual Mickey in jeans and a black cut-off with some kind of alcohol logo on the front that Ian didn’t recognize (which was impressive, if they were being honest). They’d agreed to meet at the Gallagher house because ‘last time they met up it didn’t end so great for you’, as Ian had made clear.

“Hey,” Ian greeted, giving Mickey a genuine smile.

“Hey,” Mickey replied, returning the smile with a half-smile that wasn’t forced but wasn’t executed with complete ease either. Ian couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how adorable Mickey was when he was all awkward like that. If this thing with Mickey worked out, he knew he was going to be one lucky guy.

“We can get going,” Ian said, stepping outside and pulling the door closed behind him. Ian walked down the front steps first with Mickey following behind him. He pushed their gate open and held it for Mickey, which got a weird look thrown in his direction.

They walked for a while in silence, Ian turning every so often on a new street. Mickey stayed next to Ian while they walked, hands shoved into his pockets.

“So,” Ian started, trying to break the silence as smoothly as possible - which clearly didn’t work. “The other night when we ran into each other.”

“What about it?” Mickey asked casually. When it was just him and Ian in the quiet and the dark, it didn’t seem so important to be defensive and always on guard when he spoke. He felt like he could be himself when he was alone with Ian, in a way he couldn’t be in front of his family or what few friends he had.

“Sky… my friend, Skylar, you’ve met her… said it seemed like you were following someone,” Ian said, trying to pry the information out of Mickey subtly. He didn’t want to straight-up ask because he wasn’t sure what kind of reaction that would provoke in Mickey.

“It was nothing,” Mickey looked at Ian quickly then looked forward again, shrugging.

“So you were following someone?” Ian questioned.

“Some dick that Mandy was with a while back. The one who beat the shit out of me. Big guy. I was gonna rough him up a little so he’d make sure to leave Mandy the fuck alone. This time when I’d have the upper hand. That’s all,” Mickey confessed, shrugging at that explanation, too.

Ian decided that that was enough explanation for him and decided to drop the subject. He figured that it would be best if he didn’t know the specifics of Mickey having ‘the upper hand’, so he could claim ignorance if it came down to it.

Soon enough, though, Ian and Mickey were at the movie theater and Ian was distracting the ticket girl with his good looks and charm so Mickey could sneak through and not have to pay. And if Ian wasn’t as generous as he was feeling right now, he honestly probably wouldn’t have had to pay either. He charmed the pants off of that girl, and if he hadn’t been gay and sort-of-kind-of taken, he definitely would have used that to his advantage in more than one way.

“You’re so fucking dumb, Gallagher. You could have gotten in without paying, dumbass,” Mickey teased when Ian joined him in the theater and took a seat next to him.

“I know, but I feel bad. Skylar and I sneak into around 20 showings a month in this theater so I usually pay for one or two tickets per month. Figured now was as good a time as any,” Ian joked back. He didn’t actually feel that bad, since the theater wasn’t actually lacking in funds and most of the employees were horrible, but most of what he said was true.

The movie was whatever dumb comedy was in theaters at the time - they didn’t really bother checking and they didn’t really care, it was just the easiest to sneak into since it was in the back theater - and they were laughing to themselves most of the movie. Sometimes they didn’t even laugh because of the movie, they laughed because it was ridiculous that they even snuck into the movie in the first place.

Halfway through the movie, Ian slipped his hand into Mickey’s. They were both too distracted by the ridiculous comedy to make a big deal over it, and Mickey automatically squeezed Ian’s hand back without thinking. It already felt so natural to him and that natural feeling didn’t even phase him in that moment. It was nice to be so distracted that he didn’t think about consequences, just how he felt for the time being - which was happy.

When the movie ended they didn’t unlink hands completely, but Ian pulled Mickey out the back exit of the theater by the last two fingers. When they got outside to the lit street behind them, Mickey didn’t pull away from the two-finger hold. It wasn’t too much and it also wasn’t too little contact. He wanted to be near Ian, to make sure Ian was actually there and not his imagination, but it was also risky having contact in public. Two fingers was perfect and allowed distance between them without too much distance.

Ian took the allowance of hand-holding to be a good sign, and after they had walked a little further from the theater he pulled Mickey into a dark alley. He shoved Mickey against the wall roughly but still playfully, and grinned at him.

“Was this a real date, then?” Ian asked, hands gently gripped in Mickey’s cut-off. He looked Mickey directly in the eyes, hoping for a positive answer. By the way things were going, though, he was pretty sure what the answer was going to be.

“What if it was, Gallagher?” Mickey returned the gaze, speaking quietly so only Ian could hear (if there was even anyone else to hear it).

“Just making sure,” Ian replied. For a split second his gaze turned hungry, then his lips met Mickey’s in a way that could only be described as deprived. He’d craved Mickey’s kiss since the night of the party, and all he wanted to do was kiss Mickey for as long as he could hold his breath or as long their shared breaths could last.

Their mouths collided with desperation for each other, and Mickey - though reluctant to at first - returned the kiss with as much power as Ian had started it. Ian’s hands moved down Mickey’s sides and under his shirt. The contact made Mickey flush with warmth and excitement.

Ian’s hands braced against bricks for a second, then they found Mickey’s back. Mickey’s hands found the small of Ian’s back and he pulled Ian into him. The whole situation was making Mickey really fucking turned on, and for a split second his brain realized what they were doing. Bodies pressed together in a dark alley, making out in an alleyway in the middle of a random neighborhood. He knew they couldn’t do anything there, not now and probably not ever in public.

“Wait, stop,” Mickey panted out, hand pressed to Ian’s (extremely toned, holy shit) chest. He gave a small, shy smile when Ian gave him a confused look. “We can’t… maybe we should save this for somewhere other than a dark alley?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Ian smiled back at Mickey, then winked. “Maybe we can save it for our honeymoon suite.”

“Fuck off, firecrotch,” Mickey joked as he adjusted himself and then started to make his way out of the alley.

“Oh, I’m firecrotch now?” Ian laughed, following Mickey after adjusting himself, too.

“So what if you are?” Mickey raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, a facial expression that made Ian practically explode with laughter.

**“I don’t have a problem with it, Mick,” Ian said, catching up to Mickey and pulling him the rest of the way out of the alley by the hand.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with this fic! Please comment/leave kudos if you have the time! :)


	16. Pancakes & Happiness

Soon after the make-out session in the alley, Mickey and Ian found themselves making their way back to Ian’s place. Ian had insisted that Mickey come over, and Mickey wasn’t in a position to refuse. Their hands - their ring fingers and pinkies - remained linked for the entire walk home as they talked about anything and everything.

When they got back to the Gallaghers’ humble abode, Ian grabbed Mickey’s hand fully and pulled him into the house. As soon as they were in the house, Ian slammed Mickey against the wall in the entryway and kissed him. Mickey accepted the kiss and pulled Ian into him. The kisses were greedy and one might even call them passionate. God, Ian had been waiting to kiss Mickey like that since the night of the party.

Ian’s mouth clashed with Mickey’s, tongues exploring the inside of the other’s mouth. They shared breath as they kissed, hands gripping at each other’s shirts and hips. Ian’s lips moved from Mickey’s mouth to his neck, and Mickey let a small moan escape his lips.

“Jesus, Ian, not in your fucking foyer,” Mickey said, putting a hand on Ian’s chest again, stopping them from getting too far. He looked up at Ian, whose lips were now extremely red, and sort of hated himself from stopping them from fucking right then and there.

“Fine, Fine,” Ian sighed, staring down at Mickey’s equally red and slightly swollen lips. The way Mickey looked in that moment, Ian probably would have fucked him in the middle of a crowded baseball stadium and not even cared about it. He pulled Mickey further inside the house, into the kitchen. They noticed Carl and Debbie were passed on the couch as they passed. “We’ll eat now, I guess. I’m starving.”

Ian sighed in defeat. He guessed with the younger ones in the house and Lip probably upstairs that they probably wouldn’t get enough privacy to do anything more than they already had tonight, anyway.

When they got into the kitchen he gestured for Mickey to sit down, then pulled open the fridge open to see what they had to eat.

“Do you want anything to eat? We have leftover banana pancakes if you want me to warm some up for you,” Ian offered, taking the plate out of the fridge.

“Are you kidding me? Banana pancakes are my fucking favorite,” Mickey said, implying that he definitely wanted some pancakes. Ian shoved the plate of pancakes in the microwave and put a minute and a half on them, then leaned on the counter facing Mickey.

“Syrup or no syrup?” Ian asked.

“Syrup fucking ruins the taste,” Mickey said, scrunching up his face in a disgusted look.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“I’ve always thought the same thing, but everyone I know says syrup is a pancake’s best friend.”

“If it’s a flavored pancake it doesn’t require syrup. Who the fuck would think it needed syrup?”

“Thank you! I knew there was a reason I liked you. We’re like, a match made in pancake heaven.”

“Oh my god,” Mickey finished the conversation, rolling his eyes.

A few seconds after Mickey stopped the conversation and Ian sat down with him, Skylar came trudging downstairs in one of Lip’s t-shirts and laced underwear. Ian stared after her as she started rummaging through their cupboards looking for something.

“Hey, Sky,” Ian said, giving her a confused look. She avoided eye contact with him. “What are you doing here?”

“Um… Lip invited me over,” Skylar replied, blushing more than she ever had in Ian’s presence before. She was actually sort of embarrassed about sleeping with Lip, but only because Ian was her best friend. It would be too weird for her to be forward about it, so she thought of the first thing that came to mind. “Studying.”

“Alright,” Ian said, winking at her. “Whatever you say…”

A minute later, Mandy trudged down the stairs in an outfit extremely similar to Skylar’s. Mandy winked at Mickey and Ian before opening the fridge to help find milk to put on the cereal Skylar had finally found.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Mickey questioned, confusion spreading across his face, too. “Don’t tell me you were both ‘studying’ with Lip.”

Mickey said this not in a bad way, obviously, but he was just confused beyond belief. He didn’t even know Mandy was into girls, and now he kind of felt bad for not taking her advice about Ian more seriously before now.

“Maybe we were? So fucking what? Two guys can fuck,” Mandy sassed, looking from Mickey to Ian and back. “don’t you?”

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey and Ian said in unison, and Ian turned pink. They both thought about how they hadn’t fucked yet. They may have been close to it, but they didn’t. And now it was just awkward. Especially because now Mandy, Skylar, and Lip were all going to assume they did fuck.

“Well aren’t you two just meant for each other,” Skylar chimed in, grabbing bowls and spoons for herself and Mandy.

“I fuckin’ told you, it’s destiny. They’re the definition of written in the stars,” Mandy agreed. Now Mickey and Ian were both completely embarrassed by the girls’ conversation. They just kept giving each other looks that said ‘help me’, but they couldn’t really do anything to stop the girls.

“I never disagreed with you, babe,” Skylar added, bringing her now full bowl of cereal to the table, sitting next to Ian as Mandy joined the table next to her brother. At the moment, Lip joined them downstairs, still sweaty from whatever the three of them had been doing upstairs.

“I see you’ve all acquainted yourselves,” Lip said, smiling at the table full of people. Mandy, Skylar, and Ian all laughed at how smug Lip looked. Mickey put on a look that said ‘I’m too hardcore to deal with your shit’, but he was laughing on the inside, too. “Breakfast for dinner?”

\------

“No, Mick, I swear to god. He’s fucking Hawaiian. Trust me. Someone fucking back me up on this.”

A few days after the movie date, they all found themselves in the Gallagher house once again. Ian didn’t know why their friendly argument had even started, but somehow he and Mickey had started arguing about where Obama was from. The topic was shitty but no one seemed to mind. Skylar was sitting on Mandy’s lap in the chair, while Ian had his feet in Mickey’s lap on the couch. Lip was laying on the floor, trying to cool off in one of the rare extremely days of early May. No one else in the house seemed to mind the heat.

“Fucking aye, Ian, he’s Haitian. You can’t seriously believe he could be from Hawaii. His people don’t come from Hawaii,” Mickey insisted.

“Well now that’s just being racist, and it makes me think Ian’s right,” Mandy added.

“Statistically speaking, I’d have to agree with Mickey,” Skylar piped up, and smiled at Mickey. “Someone had to be on your side.”

“You can’t just throw some random ‘statistically speaking’ shit in and expect us to believe you’re the right one, Sky,” Ian argued.

“I thought I’d give it a shot,” Skylar sighed.

“Fuck you, Sky, I got this,” Mickey said, determined to win the debate.

“No you don’t, hon. I’m helping you,” she replied.

“Jesus fuck, guys, shut the fuck up,” Lip mumbled from the floor, then lifted himself up and went into the kitchen.

“Mandy, I trust you to take this for me. Make a good argument. I believe in you,” Ian gave her a quick pep talk before joining Lip in the kitchen. He pulled the fridge open and got himself a can of cold beer before leaning on the counter next to Lip. They both listened to the argument for a little while before Ian finally spoke up. “So Mandy _and_ Skylar, huh?”

“They seem to be into it, as you can tell,” Lip smiled at his brother. “Who woulda thought?”

“Don’t fucking hurt them, okay? Either one of them. They are both way too fucking good for you. You know that, right?” Ian said, in a semi-threatening way. He loved both of them a lot, even though he’d only known Mandy for a short time.

“Jesus, Ian, I know,” Lip confirmed. And he did know. Skylar and Mandy were both perfectly flawed, and he knew he was really fucking lucky. He just hoped they didn’t start taking more interest in each other than him. Although he knew they’d make a great power couple if it came down to that.

“Good. Because if you hurt them, I’ll hurt you a million times worse.”

“I know that, too, little bro.”

\------

“That was great.”

Mickey was laying in bed next to Ian after probably their fourth or fifth round of fucking that day, still panting as he came down from the high. Ian’s hand found his in between the sheets, and Mickey happily let Ian interlock their fingers.

“Best one of the day, I’d say,” Ian agreed, thumb circling Mickey’s knuckle.

“Fuck,” Mickey breathed.

“Mick?” Ian said through heavy breaths that were just starting to calm down.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad the bottle landed on you,” Ian admitted in the heat of the moment.

“What?” Mickey said, not connecting the statement while he was still so high from the epic orgasm Ian had induced minutes before.

“The night, at the party. I’m really glad the bottle landed on you and not someone else. Not a girl or another guy, but you,” Ian clarified.

“Oh, yeah,” Mickey felt blood rush to his cheeks, and he turned his head so that he could maybe hide the blushing a little. He still wasn’t used to feeling the way he did around Ian, and even in private he felt weird about showing his feelings. He wasn’t quite yet to the emotional part, yet. Not yet. He’d try to get there, for Ian. But being emotionally open and in an official relationship were not fully developed concepts to Mickey, yet. “Me, too.”

“Really?” Ian asked, a slightly excited tone to his voice.

‘Really?’ Mickey didn’t know how to answer that question. Because honestly, it was sort of yes and sort of no. He felt a connection with Ian that he had never felt with any other person in his life, male or female, lover or family. So, he was happy he could share that connection. And now that he was pretty sure he would do anything for Ian and that he might even be head-over-heels in love with the guy, he was happy that he knew he could feel like that for someone and that it was not some myth that girls and the occasional guy searched for with no luck.

At the same time, Mickey would never have had to go through the emotional pain he went through had he not kissed Ian at that party. He probably wouldn’t have felt as strongly about any other guy, which meant he probably wouldn’t have questioned his sexuality so easily. Ian made him realize things about himself that he maybe never would have been ready to realize, but now that he knew he couldn’t imagine not knowing.

All in all, he was probably more happy than not that the stupid bottle had landed on him in the first place. There were a lot of reasons to not be happy about it, but being with Ian was honestly better than any of the consequences that could come of him being gay - which was a fact he now fully accepted within himself. There would always be parts of him that didn’t want to accept it, but he would always know that he didn’t like girls as much as he liked guys, Ian in particular.

“Yeah. Really,” Mickey finally replied after thinking about it for a minute. Ian just smiled. Mickey’s answer meant a lot to him, and he didn’t even need to say anything else. Just being there in bed with Mickey was perfect right now.

“Ready for another round or do you need a minute?” Mickey said, breaking the moment in possibly the best way imaginable.

“I was born ready,” Ian said, a goofy grin on his face as he rested his head in his hands.

“Jesus christ, Ian, no,” Mickey laughed, jumping on top of Ian and pinning him down.

“What?” Ian laughed, too.

“You’re such a weird fucker. I don’t even know why I like you,” Mickey explained.

“Because I’m an amazing person with a giant magnificent dick,” Ian replied, flipping Mickey on his back and straddling him.

“Oh my god, fuck off,” Mickey laughed, pushing Ian over onto the bed beside him.

“You know it’s true, Mick.”

“Fuck you, Ian.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing,” Ian laughed at his joke, and Mickey just sighed and rolled his eyes. Sometimes Mickey wondered why his brain decided to love this stupid fucker without his permission, but he guessed he’d have to learn to deal with it.

**In Mickey’s moment of wonder, Ian knew exactly why he’d fallen in love with Mickey in the first place. Not because of who he was on the outside, but because of the goofy and passionate person he could be when you got to know him. Even if Ian hadn’t know that side of Mickey when they first met, he somehow knew it was there. And he’d fallen in love with all sides of Mickey. He didn’t know why, but he was in so deep he didn’t even care anymore.**


	17. Time, You Precious Thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this stuff might be triggering. Forewarning that there is stuff about guns and mention of rape/abuse. It's not too bad, but I thought a warning would be nice!

A couple weeks later in the first week of June, things had started looking up. Everything was well, school was over for the ones that did go to school, and the whether was finally good for long periods of time. Of course, that’s until Mandy called Lip frantically one evening.

“Lip, I don’t know what’s going on, but you have to tell Ian. I heard Mickey talking to Iggy and Colin about going to kill Vinnie and I’m actually really fucking worried. He looked furious and Vinnie is such a prick I wouldn’t be surprised if Mickey was serious this time. Please tell Ian. I would but he’s at work and I don’t have his number in this phone,” Mandy said, panicking over the phone. Lip could hear her uneven breaths and knew that whatever was going with Mickey this time, it was really serious.

“Are you sure it’s necessary to tell Ian? It’s work-interruption necessary?” Lip asked, a calm tone to his voice. He was trying to calm Mandy down as much as he could.

“I tried to stop him. Told him it wasn’t a big deal. He seemed like whatever Iggy and Colin told him put him in an unstoppable fucking rage. I didn’t know what else to do or who else to call. Mickey doesn’t love anyone or anything more than he loves Ian, I thought maybe Ian could stop him.”

“Oh shit, it’s that serious, huh?” Lip said, now concerned. He started putting shoes on while he was still on the phone with Mandy, heading out the door as soon as he was ready.

“Yeah, I don’t want him to land himself in jail or do something he regrets. Especially because I’m sure Terry has heard about Mickey and Ian by now and I don’t want Mick to be in prison with a guy who will most likely kill him for being the way he is,” Mandy explained. “You’ll tell Ian?”

“I’m heading out right now. Don’t worry about it,” Lip confirmed. “Do you know where Mickey is? Where am I telling Ian to go?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Somewhere loud and dark, probably a familiar alleyway that he can get away from quickly. Ian will probably know better than me when it comes to that, too. I think I heard Colin suggest somewhere Mickey had seen Vinnie before. I don’t fucking know. I’m sorry,” Mandy spilled out, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. She was definitely not going to cry while she was on the phone, though.

“No, it’s fine. That should be enough. Ian is good with navigation. Some ROTC training before he dropped out for other things. He’ll figure that shit out. Don’t worry about it, Mandy. Really. Stay by the phone, I’ll keep you updated.”

Lip half ran and half walked the whole way to Kash N Grab, stopping for nothing. He knew the shit was serious when Mandy, one of the toughest girls he knew, was almost crying over the phone. She was really worried Mickey was going to get into shit that was irreversible.

When he got to the store, he burst through the front door and scanned the room for Ian. He spotted Ian restocking something in the back corner of the store. He walked up to Ian, ignoring Linda’s greeting, and pulled Ian towards the front of the store by the sleeve of his shirt.

“Borrowing Ian, he probably won’t be back tonight. Family emergency,” Lip announced to no one in particular as he brought Ian outside, Ian trying to twist his way out of Lip’s grasp.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I was working.” Ian said when Lip finally let go of him a block away from the store.

“Mandy called,” Lip started. “She seemed really worried about Mickey. She said she would have called you but she doesn’t have your number right now.”

“Wait, why is she worried?” Ian’s asked, eyes widening with fear. “Why are you worried? You barely even seem to like Mickey.”

“Despite popular belief I do have a heart and a soul if you believe in that soul shit, and she thinks Mickey is going to kill someone. Which, surprisingly, is against my morals and I amazingly disagree with that,” Lip said, always finding a way to be sassy in the most serious of situations. “And, if he goes to jail it might ruin you happiness. I don’t want to see you - my brother and best friend - to be unhappy because the dumbass you’re in love with lands himself in jail.”

“Where is he?” Ian said, now in full-panic mode. He was shaking with nerves even though he was trying to seem calm. Nothing about what Lip was saying was reassuring him at all. This okay day was turning to shit right in front of Ian’s face and he was not liking it at all. Of course Mickey’s flaw would end up being him landing himself in jail, even if he supposedly had a good reason for it.

“I don’t know. Mandy thought you might know,” Lip explained. “Do you know of a secluded area, a loud and dark alley or something, that he would use to corner the dude in?”

“I have a couple ideas,” Ian assured Lip. The place that came to mind was a place Mickey had told him about only a couple days before.

Mickey and Ian had been laying in bed, both wiped out from fucking (surprise, surprise). Mickey had grabbed Ian’s hand first this time, instead of the other way around. Ian, however, was the first one to speak up.

“You remember the first time we went to the movies? We went to see the one movie with Sam Claflin and that chick from Bates Motel?” He had asked, looking over at Mickey and taking in the beautiful man he had been fucking blessed with.

“Yeah, I remember,” Mickey had said, smiling back at Ian and continuing to stroke the back of Ian’s hand with his thumb.

“Why were you all beat up? With the home-done stitches and all that shit?” Ian had inquired, trying to look Mickey in the eye. Mickey had turned his attention back towards the ceiling.

“I got into a fight,” Mickey reluctantly confessed.

“With who?” Ian asked, wanting more information.

“Mandy’s ex, he’s a fucking prick,” Mickey clarified.

“Where at?” Ian continued to pry.

“Why the fuck do you care where at?” Mickey asked, not in an angry way, just confused.

“Just want to know,” Ian answered. “So where at?”

“Some alley, by the restaurants and coffee shops on the edge of the south side. I don’t really remember, but the El ran near it. I remember it being really fucking loud,” Mickey had said, giving a vague description that Ian wouldn’t have really understood if he didn’t already know Mickey so well.

Now, when Ian was thinking about where this alley could be, he only vaguely remembered the description. The description was so vague in the first place that he figured he’d have to go off of pure instinct for the most part. He knew Mickey; where would Mickey bring a guy to kill him?

“Alright, want me to come with?” Lip asked. “Or do you think you can handle this alone without ending up emotionally or physically hurt or both?”

“I got this,” Ian started in a harsh whisper, which told Lip he really did have it. Lip knew that tone. “Go to the Milkovich house and hold up there until Mickey and/or I come back so that we make sure Mandy is safe. Oh, and tell Skylar to stay home. She’ll listen to you, I know she will. We don’t know how dangerous this guy Mickey is after is or what he’s done besides whatever he’s done to the Milkoviches before. I don’t want either of the girls involved anymore. Understand me?”

Lip was actually sort of terrified by his brother’s newfound heroism, but he wasn’t going to argue. The last thing he wanted to do was get in the way of Ian when he seemed so set on everything he was saying.

“Yeah, got it,” Lip said as Ian turned to leave, but he caught Ian on the arm before he could leave. “Hey, be careful.”

“I will,” Ian said, nodding to his brother in understanding.

As soon as Lip agreed and pulled out his phone, Ian was sprinting towards the alley he assumed Mickey would be using. His heart had been racing well before he started running, but it was at a level he didn’t even think was possible now. All he could think about was Mickey killing Mandy’s ex, and the worst thing about it was he was more worried about Mickey being caught than he was about the thought of Mickey killing someone.

He ran past more alleyways than he could count, and he glanced down every single one of them to make sure he didn’t miss Mickey. Everything was moving way too fast yet way too slowly at the same time. The only thing Ian could do at this point was hope he reached Mickey before he did anything stupid.

\-----

Mickey lead Vinnie into the alleyway, not knowing what exactly he was going to do but knowing for damn certain that Vinnie wasn’t leaving until he got an apology - either that, or he wasn’t going to leave at all.

The cold metal of one of Terry’s Smith & Wesson’s was pressed against the back of Vinnie’s bare neck. Mickey only did it so he knew for sure that Vinnie would feel the threat. The metal of that particular gun never seemed to get warm, even if it was warm. The chill of the barrel against skin was something that could make anyone shiver, and Mickey shook just thinking about the time Terry had caught him with the last of a bottle of whiskey and had used that particular gun on him.

It was something that Mickey couldn’t forget, and in this moment he didn’t want to forget it. He remembered his fear - how Terry said he could smell the fear wafting off of him - and he hoped the fucker standing in front of him was feeling the same thing.

The alley was dark, the shade from the buildings making the moonlight almost disappear. A perfect setting, considering Mickey didn’t know what exactly was going to happen and the darker the better, as long as he could see a little he had the upper hand.

“Kneel the fuck down, asshole, and turn towards me,” Mickey started. An anger burned in his eyes, so bright that Vinnie could probably see it in the very slim amount of light in the darkness. “I want to see your face when you apologize. I want to see you cry like the fucking pussy you are. You can’t expect to get away with it when you hit me and you rape my little sister, okay, you fucking piece of shit? You may not be the first person to do it, but you’ll be the fucking last, understand me? I want you to see the face of the person who is going to kill you.”

Vinnie knelt down, taking Mickey’s words to heart, apparently. There were no tears in his eyes, and no regret. He thought he was the fucking master of the universe or some shit and could get away from everything. Mickey was positive now that Vinnie wasn’t going to get out of there, and he wanted to watch as the prick died. He’d never felt such hatred towards anyone except maybe Terry at some point in time.

Mickey kept the gun trained on Vinnie during the speech, never wavering. He had no doubt about what he was going to do, but he wanted to get his anger out first. So Vinnie could hear it.

“Apologize for everything you’ve done, you prick. Now. Or don’t, you’re dying either way. I know what you did, so I’m not changing my mind about killing you,” Mickey said, eyes still fiery with hate.

“I’m not gonna apologize for shit. I’m not sorry,” Vinnie announced like he was almighty.

At the same time, Ian continued towards the alley. He barrelled towards it like a fucking freight train, and nothing was going to stop him. He pushed passed people and made sure he checked the alleyways every time he passed. The whole time, he kept thinking about how Mickey protecting Mandy’s honor by killing this dude was so fucking stereotypically South Side. It was so horribly stereotypical that there was even Ian, the knight in fucking shining armor, coming to save the day and stop him from doing something stupid. If he stopped Mickey, he damn well was kissing his princess, that’s for sure.

\-----

Right as Mickey cocked the gun and was about to shoot Vinnie smack dab in the middle of the forehead, Ian got to the alley. He stopped abruptly, he momentum almost knocking him off balance. Mickey looked up at Ian, who was at the end of the alley behind Vinnie. He kept his gaze trained so he could see Ian but didn’t lose sight of Vinnie. Couldn’t risk that.

“Gallagher?” Mickey questioned, overwhelmed with confusion and worry. He didn’t want Ian to see him like this, and definitely didn’t want Ian to see him kill a person. “The fuck are you doing here? Shit, I should have known someone would tell you.”

“You don’t have to do this, Mickey,” Ian started, inching his way towards Mickey as he spoke.

“Oh my god, not with this shit. Yes I fucking do. You know what happened to Mandy. I told you. I have to do this,” Mickey confirmed.

“We can find another way to deal with this shit - to get justice or whatever. Lip and Sky are good with that shit. I don’t want you to go to jail over this jackass, Mick,” Ian argued.

“Ian, I need to do this,” Mickey said, the fire in his eyes dulling only a little.

**“I promise you, if you don’t, we’ll turn him in. Everything will be fine. We’ll get justice and revenge and all that good shit. Skylar interned at a law office,” Ian said, now almost right next to Mickey. “Come on, Mick. You don’t need to. Put the gun down.”**


	18. Is this a fucking joke?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little more violent, just so you guys know!

Mickey’s eyes didn’t move from Vinnie, sweat beading on his forehead despite the breeze moving through the alley. He knew what Ian was saying was true. Not only that, but the fact that Ian didn’t want him to do it was making him want to do it less and less.

Ian was now by Mickey’s side, trying to get him to lower the gun. He was shaking, nervous about the whole situation, and Mickey could see it. Ian reached up to Mickey’s arm, gently pushing it so the gun was facing the ground.

“It’s fine, Mick. We’ll call the police and they’ll handle it. I know you don’t really trust them, but there are some good ones,” Ian said. Mickey’s eyes still hadn’t wavered from where Vinnie knelt. As Ian said this, though, Mickey looked at Ian, taking in the guy who loved him enough to stop him from doing something so stupid.

When Mickey looked away, Vinnie took advantage of the moment. He pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants; he’d been too slow to pull it before Mickey put a gun to his head, but now was his chance. Mickey noticed the movement and pulled the gun up again, but his reflexes were too slow.

Vinnie shot blindly into the darkness, not taking time to aim because of the lack of light and lack of time. He got up, ditched the gun, and ran as soon as he heard the bullet hit flesh. He was blocks away before the first siren started up from nearby.

The bullet, shot randomly and in a frantic moment, didn’t hit Mickey. He was relieved for a second, before he realized he hadn’t heard it hit a building or anything else, really.

It had hit Ian. The bullet had punctured his left side, and Ian held the wound in shock. Nothing could have prepared him for being shot. Sure, ROTC trained him mentally for being shot. But nothing could ever prepare him for the physical pain of being hit by a bullet. It hurt so bad it almost didn’t hurt, if that was possible. He immediately applied pressure to the wound, like he’d been taught a couple years before - before he left his military dreams behind. The blood loss was too much, though, and he fell to the ground.

The fall didn’t feel like it usually would have if he hadn’t just been shot. It should have hurt. Ian should have gotten hurt falling so hard to the ground, but it didn’t hurt. His world was a blur. He wasn’t sure what was happening to him externally or internally anymore, but what he was sure of was that Mickey had stayed with him. Mickey hadn’t gone after Vinnie, he’d stayed with him.

Ian knew in that moment that Mickey really, truly cared about him. If he didn’t he wouldn’t have stayed. He wouldn’t have put his gun down. He would have gone after Vinnie. For Mandy, for himself. But he stayed with Ian.

Every inch of Ian’s body hurt. He figured it was his body trying to distract him from the pain in his side by giving him pain everywhere else. Either that, or he was shot everywhere and didn’t notice anything but the first shot. He smiled at his dumb internal joke, and was calm. He knew that since Mickey was there - with him - that things would be fine. No matter how things turned out, it would be fine.

Mickey, on the other hand, was no where near as calm. As soon as he saw that Ian had been hit by Vinnie’s frantic shot into the void, he panicked. When Ian fell, he dropped to his knees next to him.

“Shit, Ian, no,” Mickey breathed, tears welling in his eyes. “No. No, no, no. Fuck.”

The thoughts that went through Mickey’s mind were all negative. He thought about how he knew he could never be happy. How everyone that he ever cared about got hurt. How people he loved in the past had died or left him in some other way. He blamed himself for all the shit that came down his path, and this was just confirmation to it all in his mind.

Again, Terry’s voice creeped into his mind. Like it always did when he was actually finding happiness. Terry’s voice telling him he was a piece of shit, or that he was doing wrong, or that he was worthless. He pushed the voice out of his mind. He couldn’t think of that when he needed to help Ian.

“No… no… not this,” Mickey whispered, tears now streaming down his face. “Not you. No.”

Ian heard Mickey’s mutters through the madness that was going through his head. His mind wasn’t focused on anything, cluttered with thoughts about what was going to happen to him and that he didn’t get to do all that he wanted. He tried to push them all aside so he could hear Mickey and be with Mickey. He didn’t want his focus to be on anything else but Mickey if these were to be his last moments.

As Ian gasped for breath, he thought about how lucky he was to have fallen in love with Mickey. Even if it wasn’t Mickey, it was lucky to have fallen in love at his age. He wasn’t even legally an adult yet, and he got to fall in love. That was something it took people twice as long as him to do, sometimes.

Mickey had lifted Ian’s head and shoulders into his lap as he knelt, and he grabbed Ian’s free hand now. Ian didn’t really notice the shift, but accepted Mickey’s hand gratefully. He drew in breaths raggedly, and his mind found thoughts of how lucky he was to be in the arms of the man he loved. If he were to die, which now grew more inevitable to his slowly fading thoughts, he wanted to do it when Mickey was there. Not that he wanted Mickey to see him die - of course not. But it was better that MIckey was there with him. He didn’t want to die alone, not when it was in this way.

Ian didn’t blame Mickey for this at all, even though he should have. Wrong place, wrong time. He hoped that if he didn’t make it, Mickey didn’t blame himself either.

“Mick, don’t,” Ian started, shuddering underneath Mickey. His breaths came out short, and they seemed to take a lot of effort.

“Shhh, shhh, don’t talk,” Mickey stopped him. “Save your energy, Ian.”

“Don’t blame… yourself…” Ian finished, gripping Mickey’s hand tightly.

Mickey stayed tough, not wanting Ian to see him upset. He couldn’t stop tears from falling, though, and every few seconds he sniffled. He didn’t want anything to happen to Ian. He didn’t even have his fucking phone with him to call the ambulance, but he heard sirens getting closer and he hoped to fuck they were coming there. His whole world had slowed down, though, and everything was crumbling underneath him. Like they always did.

“It’s okay,” Ian started again. This time it seemed harder for him to talk through breaths. He was losing more blood than Mickey cared to see, and it took everything for Mickey to not sob. Ian’s bloody hand let go of Mickey’s and gripped into Mickey’s shirt. “I’m… fine… don’t leave me. Just… don’t… leave me.”

“I won’t,” Mickey assured Ian, sniffling. “It’s not fucking okay. I’m not leaving you.”

The sirens continued growing louder as Mickey frantically tried to help Ian stop the bleeding, tearing a part of Ian’s shirt and putting it over the wound. When Ian’s hand dropped off the cloth and the wound, he replaced it with his own hand.

“Don’t you fucking leave me,” Mickey whispered, still sniffling as Ian’s eyes drooped then fluttered shut. He was furious at himself and at Vinnie. It shouldn’t have been Ian. It should have been him. “Everyone I care about fucking leaves.”

Within minutes, the police and ambulance are there. It felt like hours to Mickey, and it felt even slower to Ian. By the time they got there, Ian was passed out from blood loss and Mickey was a huge fucking mess. He was crying and bloody and emotionally vulnerable, everything he strived to never be.

The police cars and ambulance pulled up, lights on and sirens blaring, to the alleyway that the gunshot was reported in. The sirens turned off immediately when they pulled up to the alley, but lights remained on. In the new light, Mickey could see the blood on him.

Ian was pulled off of Mickey’s lap and put immediately onto a gurney and into the ambulance. Mickey was so in shock from the events he didn’t even try to get in the ambulance with Ian. The blame he put on himself made him feel like he didn’t deserve to go with. The police took their time surveying the scene, and after a few minutes a dark-skinned, gentle and young-looking policewoman with the name badge that said ‘K. Gunther’ pulled Mickey off of his feet. He hadn’t bothered standing up before that.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Gunther recited, cuffing Mickey. The whole thing was a blur to Mickey. The officer read him his rights, and he didn’t have the strength to argue or fight against her. Typically he would, but not now. Not when he blamed himself for everything that happened. He felt like this time he actually deserved to be arrested, and he wasn’t even exactly sure what he was being arrested for.

Gunther led Mickey to her car and put him in the back, closing the door as he settled himself in. He was used to being in cop cars, so he knew how to get himself comfortable when he his hands were cuffed behind his back. One of the perks of being associated with Terry, he supposed. Maybe the only one.

“Do you have contact info for the kid they took to the hospital? His name and an emergency contact?” Gunther asked Mickey in a soft voice. She wasn’t like the cops that usually picked him up. Mickey pegged her for being a North Side cop, but he liked it. It was a nice change from the rough cops from the South Side.

“Ian. His name is Ian Gallagher,” Mickey started, vision still blurry from tears and reluctant at first to trust an officer of the law. He knew that the only way Ian’s family would know about the accident was if he told the lady the info. “His sister’s name is Fiona Gallagher. She takes care of their family. I don’t know her number, but Tony does. Tony Markovich. He’s a South Side cop.”

After Mickey told her all the info she needed, Gunther fed the info through dispatch. She was spewing code shit through the scanner that Mickey didn’t understand and didn’t care to learn or try to figure out. Eventually she was done, and Mickey was finally not as out of it as when he had gotten in the car.

“Did they take Ian to a good hospital? They better have fucking taken him to a good hospital. Is he going to be okay? He’s not dead is he? Tell me he’s not fucking dead,” Mickey said, leaning himself towards the front of the car. Gunther gave him a kind smile, something that was also not like a normal cop. Maybe he’s misjudged and categorized all of them as awful people because of his dad. Shit, maybe his whole worldview was fucked because of Terry. He didn’t have time to think about that now.

“No, he’s not dead right now. The EMTs are going to try their best to keep him alive. I’m not sure which hospital they’re taking him to, didn’t ask. I have to take you to the station, but if you want you can give me your emergency contact and I can tell them you need bail,” She said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Mickey said, following it up with Mandy’s number. “Hey, what am I being arrested for, anyway?”

“The gun in the alley. Not registered,” Gunther explains.

“Fucking figures. Fuckin’ Terry,” Mickey sighed, sitting back against the seat again. His head was filled with worry, regretting the fact that he didn’t try to go with Ian. The time when Ian really needed him and he didn’t go. At least his family would be able to be there, and he’d be there as soon as Mandy helped him out of being arrested.

Mickey took a few minutes on the way to the station to ride in silence, filled with worry about Ian. He thought about how much he fucking loved Ian, and how he couldn’t believe it took Ian getting shot in the fucking chest to realize and admit that to himself. He knew that he would tell Ian now, if Ian survived. He wouldn’t do it right away, there was no way he’d have that courage. But he would do it before Ian had the chance to get injured again. He would tell Ian that he wanted to be with him.

Fuck, being in love hurt. He hated it, but at the same time he never wanted it to go away.

“You ever been in love?” Mickey spoke up, taking Gunther by surprise with the question.

“Yeah, I think I have. Have you?” Gunther replied, smiling at Mickey with that warm and welcoming smile he had grown so used to already. When all this shit was over he was going to have to rethink his stereotypical view of police.

“Yeah. And it fucking sucks,” Mickey slumped into the seat, relieved to finally admit it even if it was to a complete stranger and a cop.

“Ain’t that the truth, honey.”

****  
  


\---------

“Hello?”

Fiona picked up the phone right before it was about to go to voicemail, so she hadn’t bothered to check the caller ID. Even if she had, it would have come up as ‘unknown’. All federal businesses around there showed up as ‘unknown’ for some reason.

“Is Fiona Gallagher there?” A man’s voice asked from the other end of the line.

“You’re speaking to her,” Fiona replied. It was probably a fucking telemarketer, but she wasn’t busy and Liam was asleep so she decided to stay on the line.

“You’re brother, Ian Gallagher, is in an ambulance on the way to Mercy Hospital. He was shot in the chest with a single bullet. He’s not doing so well, but the EMTs are doing their best to keep him stable until they get to the hospital so the bullet can be removed. I’m so sorry to have to deliver this information to you,” the man said, his voice solemn. It was the voice of a man who made these calls all day long, every day.

Fiona went into a complete state of shock. Her first thought was that it was some sick joke.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Is this some fucking joke?” She said harshly into the phone.

“I’m sorry ma’am. This is no joke. You should get down there as soon as possible, you’ll want to be down there to make decisions if necessary,” he said, and anyone would be able to tell that he was truly sorry. The man may have to do it for a job, but he hated hearing about kids in the South Side being shot. It happened way too frequently for his liking.

“Fuck,” Fiona said, falling onto the couch and burying her head in her hands. “Thanks.”

“I hope he pulls through,” the man said sincerely.

“Me, too. Thank you,” Fiona said, then hung up. She sat in the silence of the house for a few minutes. “Fuck.”

When it finally sank in, she rushed upstairs to get Debbie and Carl out of their respective bedrooms.

“Kids, get out here!” She yelled as she ran up the stairs. She grabbed Liam from his bed and waited until Debs and Carl were both standing with her in the hallway. “We need to get ready, and fast. I’m going to see if we can borrow Kev’s truck, and we need to head to the hospital. Ian got shot.”

“What?” Debbie and Carl said in unison, Debbie’s eyes immediately filling with tears.

“I don’t even know what happened, but apparently it’s really fuckin’ bad. Now grab whatever you need and meet me down here in five minutes,” she said, and rushed over to Kev and Vee’s to get permission to borrow their truck.

“Kev, me and the kids need your truck. Ian’s in the hospital,” Fiona said into thin air, but apparently Kev heard from wherever he was.

“Keys are in the front, you know where they are,” he yelled back.

Within minutes the Gallaghers were on the road, and Carl was calling Lip to let him know the situation.

“Yeah, I know. I’m on the way to the station with Mandy and Sky right now, we’ll be at the hospital ASAP,” Lip confirmed. “Keep me updated, Carl.”

“I will,” Carl assured Lip, then hung up.

**The rest of the ride to Mercy hospital was spent crying at various degrees from the Gallagher siblings. None of them knew why it had to be Ian that got shot, and most of them - with the exception of Liam who didn’t fully understand what was going on - wished it had been Frank, or literally anyone else but Ian, instead.**


	19. Let Us Go

“911, what is your emergency?”

Mandy answered the phone with a smile on her face. Faking being 911 was probably the most enjoyment she could get on nights like these, and any chance she got she was going to play along with it. When she got a call from an ‘unknown caller’, she took the chance.

“Ma’am, I’m going to ignore that obvious federal offense of pretending you are an authority figure when clearly you’re not because I have important news for you,” a stern woman said from the other end of the line.  
“Oh, shit,” Mandy said, realizing her mistake quickly. Clearly she hadn’t considered the consequences of pretending to be emergency services when someone could be calling about Terry, Iggy, Colin, or even Mickey. “Sorry. It’s just for laughs. Is it about Terry?”  
“No, it’s about a boy named Mickey Milkovich. Are you his sister, Mandy Milkovich?” the stern woman asked, obviously annoyed with her job and probably her whole life.

“Yeah, what’s happening with Mickey? Did he do something?” Mandy asked, nervous that Mickey had actually gone through with what he threatened.

“I can’t release details over the phone before he is processed, but he is on his way to the station and I recommend going down there, too. If bail isn’t posted before he is processed he’ll need to spend one night downtown for sure, and from the information that I was given he will probably be wanting to get to the hospital as soon as possible,” the woman recited it like she’d said the exact statement hundreds of times before.

“Hospital? What happened?” Mandy knew that Mickey wouldn’t want to visit Vinnie. Maybe the woman was mistaken or her info was wrong. If Mickey wasn’t in the hospital, surely it was Vinnie. And no one would be visiting that douche.

“A boy was shot during a fallout in an alleyway with your brother,” she clarified.

“Do you have a description?” Mandy definitely didn’t think that Vinnie could be mistaken for a boy, so who was shot? It was all starting to come together in her mind when the woman finally spoke up after ruffling through notes on her desk.

“Tall, maybe six feet, orange hair, light eyes, pale skin,” the woman read directly off of her notes.

“Shit,” Mandy said, realization coming over her in waves. Ian was fucking shot. Oh my god. She would need to tell Lip. Luckily, Lip and Skylar were in her room sleeping and she didn’t mind waking them up at all. “Thanks, I’m gonna head down there. Which station?”

“Main station in the South Side.”

“Figured. Thanks.”

Mandy got up and started looking for pants and shoes as soon as she hung up.

“Lip! Skylar! Get the fuck up! We’re going to the station, I’ll explain on the way,” she yelled through the house towards her room. She heard Lip groan a reply, which was good enough for her for now. She grabbed the keys (surprisingly) to the most recent steal of Iggy’s, made sure Lip and Skylar were getting up, then went to start the car. They were getting there as fast as they possibly could, and Mandy was going to make sure of that.

****  
  


\-------

The station was bustling when Skylar, Mandy, and Lip burst through the doors, in a rush to get Mickey out and get to the hospital. The first thing they noticed besides the usual busy work of the police station was a bloody, stoic Mickey sitting cuffed to a bench near the processing desk towards the back of the station.

“Holy fuck, that’s a lot of blood,” Lip said, examining Mickey’s situation from afar.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Skylar added.

“Fuck off, Watson,” Lip replied, his remark earning a smile from her. They immediately quit with the joking, though, because Mickey looking really fucking horrible.

Mandy rolled her eyes at the two of them and took the lead in the situation, having gone through it multiple times with all of her brothers and Terry. She approached the main desk with poise and an intimidating, protective look that she had perfected years ago.

“What’s the deal with Mickey?” She asked Officer Gunther, who had taken over desk duty after she’d brought Mickey in. “What’d he do?”

“We found him in an alley with another young man after there had been report of a gunshot in that area,” Gunther started, but continued quickly when Mandy’s expression showed worry. “Don’t worry, he’s not a suspect for the shooting. He was all torn up, still is by the looks of it. But we found another gun in the alley that seemed to be his that had a filed-off serial number. We have him here for questioning and we want to hold him overnight, but I’m not exactly sure how much help he’ll be for us in his current state.”

“He probably won’t talk. Doesn’t exactly trust cops. Can I talk to him?” Mandy asks.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead. No problem,” Gunther allowed. Mandy left Sky and Lip to hear the rest of the details while she went over to where Mickey was sitting, crouching in front of him and grabbing hold on his hand. There was dried blood on his hands, and some of his clothes were still wet from sweat and blood. She wasn’t used to seeing him like this. Wet and bloody, yes, but not vulnerable. She could still see tear stains on his expressionless face, a spot or two of blood on his cheeks where he had wiped tears without bothering to care about the blood on his hands.

“Hey, Mick,” Mandy greeted Mickey, squeezing his hand to let him know she was there for support. She smiled softly, making sure Mickey knew she saw how awful he felt. “You okay?”

When Mickey didn’t reply, she just continued to talk. She hoped it would comfort him enough to talk to her.

“You know what you were arrested for?” She tried to look him in the eyes, but his eyes stayed forward facing. He squeezed her hand back while she spoke, though. That was enough assurance for her to continue talking. “It was the gun of Terry’s you took. A serial number that was filed off. You dumbass. You gotta claim ignorance if it comes down to it. Say you didn’t know it was an illegal gun or some shit. They want to keep you overnight, shithead.”

Mickey remained stoic and silent, but Mandy didn’t really blame him. She was sure he just wanted to see Ian, which was completely understandable. Of course he wanted to see Ian.

“How’s Ian? Is he okay?” Mickey finally spoke up.

“They haven’t told you anything?” Mandy questioned.

“No, nothing since we got separated except that he was on the way to the hospital,” Mickey said, still squeezing Mandy’s hand gently. He wasn’t much for emotional things like that, but it was a special fucking occasion. He was going to get support when he needed it, since it was offered.

“That’s basically all I know, but Lip and Sky are getting more details,” Mandy reassured Mickey, sitting next to him now and wrapping an arm around him. “I’m sure he’s going to be just fine.”

“It’s all my fault,” Mickey said, utterly defeated. He was sure if he was alone he’d be sobbing right now, and he knew if he started he wouldn’t be able to stop for a long time.

“Stop it right there, Mick,” Mandy starts, rubbing his shoulder with her hand. She wanted to make sure he didn’t blame himself, because it wasn’t his fault. It was solely Vinnie’s fault. “It’s that douchebag Vinnie’s fault, and not yours. I know it was him you were after, and unless you say otherwise I’m going to assume he was the one who shot Ian. He was the one who shot Ian, and he’s the only one to blame. You can’t blame yourself, and I’m going to make damn sure he doesn’t blame himself either.”

“Okay,” Mickey said, not in the mood to to argue with her at the moment.

Lip and Skylar come over to Mandy and Mickey soon after with updates about everything that had happened during the night.

“Okay, so we have news,” Skylar announced as they joined Mickey and Mandy, tears starting to well in her eyes. The news about Ian was finally sinking in for her.

“Ian is at the hospital in surgery. Not sure of all the details, but at first glance they were optimistic. Hopefully nothing major was damaged. The ER thought it seemed like it missed important organs. But he did get shot, so it’s going to be an intensive surgery,” Lip recited what Officer Gunther had told him. He held his pain in like he usually did. Of course, he wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and punch things (even people, maybe), but he just solemnly updated people on the situation.

“And they know the gun wasn’t yours, but you were still in possession of it without a permit to carry. So they want to process you still. Which in my opinion is some major bullshit. But don’t worry, Mick. I’ll get you out of this. We’ll get you out of this,” she gestured to Lip, assuring Mickey of what she said.

Skylar took this lead while Lip followed. Mickey and Mandy remained at the bench, Mandy consoling him by just being there with him. Skylar approached the processing desk, ready to make a huge scene if she needed to. Lip was more like a sidekick than co-counsel at this point, but he was ready to back Sky up on whatever she said. He admired her ability to get out of anything, which was something he’d never mastered. That ability was probably what kept her out of jail so many times. She outsmarted everyone all the time, and there was rarely an argument she couldn’t win.

“So,” Sky started, eyeing up the name plate on the desk that read ‘B. Smith’ in replaceable letters. A balding, middle-aged white man occupied the desk chair. She grinned. This was going to be easy. “B. Smith. Why exactly do you need to keep Mr. Milkovich over here overnight? Have a quota to meet? Have a boss that’s up your ass about arresting innocent bystanders to violent crimes?”

The man turned red, but Skylar couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. Actually, no one could tell. Sky had that effect on people.

“No, he was no innocent bystander. He had an illegal firearm on his person,” B. Smith replied, frustrated that a girl half his age was asking him things like this. Skylar leaned on the officer’s desk, placing her hands on the paperwork the man had been working on.

“He didn’t know it was illegal. His father keeps firearms in the house, some of them are legal and some are not,” she argued.

“Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have a permit to carry either way, and we’re processing him tonight with or without bail money,” Smith snapped back.

“Actually, it was self defense. The man that Mr. Milkovich was after was actually an abusive ex-boyfriend of his sister’s, and they were cornered in the alleyway. Mickey happened to have the gun, and he wasn’t planning on using it. He only wanted to scare the guy,” Skylar pointed out.

“We know a Milkovich when we see one, and we can’t just let him go. Their family is full of violent criminals,” Smith argued.

“Mickey isn’t like the rest of the men in the family. I don’t know if you noticed or heard or whatever, but he didn’t even fight when they cuffed him. Don’t you think that counts for something?”

“I’m sorry, just because you ask politely doesn’t mean that I can give in. I have to keep him for processing. If you have bail money, you can take him.”

“How much is bail?”

“Only a thousand this time,” Smith smirked, seemingly assuming they didn’t have the money. He would be right to assume that, but it was still rude and Lip and Skylar weren’t having any of that.

“Fucking hell, my brother is in the hospital. If you’re going to process him can we get this the fuck over with?” Lip complained from Sky’s side.

“Lip,” Sky whispered as she pulled Lip aside. “We don’t have that Money.”

“We’ll use a stolen credit card and deal with that shit later,” Lip whispered back, then they rejoined the counter.

“No, you know what?” Skylar started, fully sick of B. Smith’s shit. “My best friend, Mickey’s goddamn _boyfriend_ , Lip’s fucking _brother_ , is in the hospital right now. And I swear on my fucking life if you let me just fucking take Mickey to the hospital to see his damn boyfriend until we know for sure that he’s okay I will personally bring him back here if I have to do it in violent and illegal ways. Hell, I’ll turn _myself_ in, too. Give us an escort if you need to. We all need to be there to see if Ian makes it through and if you keep us and he doesn’t make it or shit goes south I will hold everyone in this precinct responsible and all of you will be on my personal vendetta.”

She took a breath from her loud speech, making sure the people around her was hearing her through the noise of other people moving around.

“He was trying to protect his sister. His piece of shit dad Terry is responsible for the easily-accessible weapons in open areas of their house. For fuck’s sake, Mickey probably doesn’t even know where that weapon _actually_ came from. It’s not like he can give you names. He wouldn’t do it until he saw Ian anyway. You can have all of Terry ‘Jackass’ Milkovich’s weapons if that’s what it takes to get us out of here. Mickey promises to be a better person and all that shit. We need to leave. If you need to give him an ankle bracelet, go ahead. But do it quick. Let us go,” Skylar is fully yelling by the end of it, and breathing harshly. Tears streamed down her face, a mixture of sadness and rage welling inside of her.

The whole precinct had gone quiet by the end of the speech. Looks of shock and pity sprinkled the faces Skylar and Lip could see from their positions. Lip, if he wasn’t lying, was actually pretty turned on by how angry and amazing Skylar was being. It was taking everything not to kiss her.

Mandy was shocked by it, too, and sort of wanted to pounce on Skylar right then and there. Mickey was just as amazed, but the other things on his mind prevented him from being fully grateful for how hard Skylar was trying. If he was into girls, though, he totally would have kissed her. Hell, he sort of wanted to anyway. It was great that she was helping him even if he couldn’t fully appreciate it.

“We know where you Milkoviches live,” Gunther said, approaching Mickey and Mandy at the bench. Skylar and Lip turned to see Officer Gunther uncuffing Mickey and smiling at the siblings. “Well, someone in here does. Go. We’ll come around and let you know what we’re going to do with you later. See your boyfriend.”

“Thanks,” Mickey muttered, rubbing his wrists where the cuffs had been.

“Thank you, Officer Gunther,” Mandy added.

“It’s no problem. And it’s Captain Gunther, actually,” she smiled that sweet smile, and Mandy fell into the warmth of it as easily as Mickey did. There was definitely a reason she was head of this precinct.

****  
  


\-----

Ambulance sirens pierced through the air as the emergency vehicles arrived at Mercy Hospital. The EMTs held pressure on Ian’s wound, and as they approached the hospital one of them got ready to pull the gurney out of the ambulance. If they were going to save the kid, they were going to have to move fast.

As soon as they got to the hospital, one of the EMTs dropped out of the ambulance and pulled one end of gurney out as another person helped the other end out. They rushed him through the emergency room entrance and got a few of the ER staff to handle the situation.

Meanwhile, Fiona and the kids pulled into the hospital parking ramp. They arrived five minutes after the ambulance had, and Fiona ran inside with Liam on her hip and Debbie and Carl following behind. By the time she got inside the emergency room, she was in full-on mommy panic mode.

“Hey,” she said, tapping an unoccupied nurse on the shoulder as soon as she got in the door. “Where’s Ian? Ian Gallagher? He just got in here with a gunshot wound.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” the older nurse said, leading Fiona over to the main desk. “He’s in one of the ER’s operating rooms. If you are a family member we have some paper work you need to fill out since we don’t have any information on him right now. You and your kids can wait in the waiting room while filling those out and we’ll let you know when we have more information.”

Fiona silently took the forms that the nurse handed her, not even in the mood to argue about having to fill them out. If they needed the forms, she’d fill them out. As long as they were doing something to try to save Ian.

She lead the kids to the waiting room and picked a section that they could all sit in and have extra space for when Lip, Mandy, Sky, and Mickey got there. Debbie had started bawling, so Fiona took the seat next to her and put an arm around her. Debs leaned into Fiona’s side and cried harder than she ever had. Fiona held it together for Debbie, Carl, and Liam, but later she would go into the bathroom and cry for a good five minutes before returning to support her siblings.

Fiona sat with Debs at her side and Liam on the other side, both of them crying now, and wondered what they did to deserve to have something shitty like this happen. She couldn’t help but blame the only new part of their lives, the Milkoviches. Mickey in particular. Of course, she knew it was wrong to blame him. She was sure that Mickey wasn’t the one who shot Ian. But she still felt like it was some sort of sign.

“Is Ian going to be okay?” Carl asked. He’s been calm and silent most of the night, and this sudden question was unexpected.

“I think he will be,” Fiona reassured him, putting a hand on his leg across the aisle from herself. “He’s a fighter. Remember, he was in military training for a while.”

“Okay,” Carl said, going back to being silent. Carl wouldn’t admit it, but he was worried.

**He didn’t know if he’d ever see his brother alive again, and that scared the shit out of him. He wasn’t ready to lose someone, especially not Ian. They may not be the closest of siblings, but it was nice to have Ian there to ask the important shit. He wasn’t prepared to lose that. He couldn’t. All he could do was hope that Ian was as much as a fighter as Fiona seemed to think.**


	20. Ian Gallagher?

Mickey rushed into the hospital a good thirty minutes after he got out of the station, and Lip, Skylar, and Mandy tried their best to keep up. Mickey had some speed to him when the situation called for it, though. They weren’t in as much of a rush, either. Mickey was on a whole other level of panic.

“Where is Ian Gallagher?” Mickey panted out to the woman at the front desk of the emergency room. “He’s got red hair and was wearing a black tank top and shorts and he’s really tall with a lot of freckles.”

Mickey would have punched himself in the face if he had heard that over-the-top description. That was getting to the point of romantic and his old self would have hated this new self for it. But at the moment, all he cared about was finding Ian.

“Let me check,” the woman said, typing away at a keyboard for a couple of seconds before clicking on something and pulling up Ian’s record. “Oh, the gunshot wound. Why didn’t you just say that? They got him stable enough to move to the regular OR for a less hectic procedure.”

_“Where is he?”_ Mickey said harshly, not meaning for it to come out that way. The woman could tell Mickey was distressed, though, and disregarded his anger towards her. She had people come through like that all the time. Which was expected in that part of Chicago.

“Sixth floor. You’ll have to wait in the waiting room. He’s still in surgery according to this,” she let Mickey know as he started to rush upstairs. He took the elevator and it felt like a century and a half before the doors opened to the sixth floor.

The first face he recognized was Fiona’s, and he moved towards where she was seated with Debbie, Carl, and Liam. He noticed a bandage on Fiona’s inner arm but didn’t bother to ask about it because all he wanted to know about was Ian.

“Is Ian okay?” he asked Fiona, who stood up as he approached. At first, she didn’t want to look at him. She was still stuck on blaming him for what happened to Ian. But when she saw the look of panic, fear, and heartbreak in his eyes, she knew he was blaming himself more than she blamed him. And that was overwhelming to see in someone as strong as a Milkovich kid.

“We haven’t heard anything since he was moved up here. I had to give blood to him before they moved him. I guess it might take hours. They couldn’t find where the bullet had lodged so when he was somewhat stable they moved him,” Fiona explained, and the worry in Mickey’s eyes expanded tenfold. “We have to stay optimistic, though. He would want us to.”

“Fuck,” Mickey said, tears welling in his eyes again. He forced them back. He wasn’t going to cry in front of Ian’s whole family.

Fiona could see his pain and she felt bad for blaming him. She still did, sort of, because he was a Milkovich and she never thought Milkoviches could be trusted. Not from what Kev said about Terry. But she felt bad for him, and she couldn’t stop herself from pulling him into a hug.

Mickey, despite the fact that he barely knew Fiona since she was rarely home when he was at the Gallagher’s house, accepted the hug surprisingly quickly. He wrapped his arms around her and accepted her comfort. She really was motherly, like Ian had told him. It was nicer than he could have imagined to have someone hug him who wasn’t family but also wasn’t interested in him.

“He’ll be okay, Mickey. He always pulls through. Gallaghers are like cockroaches. You can’t get rid of us even if you want to,” Fiona assured Mickey, pulling back from the hug and putting her hands on his shoulders. She looked at him directly in the eyes. “You can be strong, but just know it’s okay to cry if you need to. If you love him as much as I think you do, it’s surprising that you aren’t crying right now.”

Mickey remained silent and took a seat next to Carl. He hadn’t noticed the few people in the waiting room that weren’t Gallaghers before now, but they were all looking at the family now. He dropped his head into his palms and rubbed his eyes, hoping that it would keep him from completely breaking down in front of everyone.

Mandy, Lip, and Skylar joined them in the waiting room a few minutes later, taking much longer than Mickey had to figure out where Ian had been moved to. Lip hugged Fiona immediately, and Fiona let tears slip from her eyes before quickly brushing them away. There were a few words exchanged between the two of them, while Mandy sat down next to Mickey to reassure him that Ian was going to be alright.

Skylar hugged Fiona and when she did, she completely broke down. Mickey had never seen Sky so completely vulnerable and wrecked, and they spent a lot of time in the same place the past month. Then again, she hadn’t seen him so vulnerable either. There was a very thin line between best friend and boyfriend when it came to Ian Gallagher. Skylar had recognized how horrible Mickey felt about everything, and she hadn’t let him see her cry until now. But she felt just as bad about the whole thing. She was just as afraid, and this was one of the rare times she’d let her guard down.

Mickey hadn’t recognized that Skylar probably felt as bad or worse than he did. He was so caught up in self-blame and sadness that he hadn’t even considered it. When Skylar took the last empty seat next to Mickey, he didn’t even hesitate before grabbing her hand. He smiled a somber smile at her, and she returned it. They would spend a lot of the next several hours like that, hands clasped and sweaty, waiting for news on Ian.

The rest of the time would be spent pacing. Mickey didn’t dare leave the waiting room. He didn’t even dare use the bathroom - in case news on Ian came in. Skylar did the same, only leaving the room once to use the bathroom. Fiona left the room several times to make phone calls concerning payment for the emergency room visit that she was setting up through other outlets and to see if the awful insurance she had was going to cover anything at all. Every time she left, she took Liam with her. The rest of the time was spent trying to console all of her siblings, Mickey, and Skylar.

Debbie and Carl basically stayed in the same spot. Carl broke out a phone that he had stolen and played games on it until it died, then almost caused problems by yelling profanities at it. Everyone figured it was his way of coping, though, and forgave him easily, only requesting that he keep it down so he didn’t bother other people. Debbie cried for a long time, and when it seemed like she couldn’t cry anymore she cried more. Eventually she found a way to lay down in the uncomfortable waiting room chair and fell asleep.

Lip, on the other hand, was fuming. He was angry about what happened to Ian. He didn’t blame Mickey like Fiona did, but he was still furious. Mandy consoled him, saying that it was bound to happen sooner or later considering they lived in the South Side of Chicago. Lip wasn’t happy with that either. He spent most of the waiting time sitting in front of Mandy’s chair with his legs curled into his chest while Mandy ran her fingers through his hair and whispered calming things to him.

Skylar and Mickey were the most calm of the bunch, but internally the least calm. They both hated showing deep feelings like the others showed, and that bonded them quickly and easily. They stayed near each other while waiting for news, not quite part of the family but probably closer to Ian than most of his sibling’s were.

After sitting there for four or five hours in these various positions, worrying about Ian like crazy, a nurse came out bearing information.

“Who’s here for Ian Gallagher?” the nurse said, checking her chart to make sure she had the right name. The Gallaghers, Skylar, Mickey, and Mandy gathered in a group so that the nurse could tell all of them at once.

“Good news! The doctors found the bullet and it has been successfully removed. It did hit his spleen, however, and they will have to remove that as well, which may take another hour or so. We can talk about what will happen with that after he wakes up. Congratulations, guys. I’m happy he made it through,” she announced, and seemed genuinely happy about it. “Make sure to thank those doctors, they worked extra hard to make sure he pulled through. Do you have any questions?”  
“No, thank you, though. And thank you for the news,” Fiona replied, tears of happiness in her eyes.

Everyone’s reactions were the same, pretty much. Happiness all around. Mickey still hated himself for letting it happen, but now he knew that his stupidity didn’t kill Ian. And he may even be able to do as Ian asked and not blame himself. Not completely, at least.

Fiona, Lip, Debbie, Carl, Liam, and Skylar all joined in a group hug. Mandy hugged Mickey tightly and rubbed his back, and he hugged back. He couldn’t have been happier in that moment. None of them could have been. Skylar detached herself from the Gallagher group hug and hugged Mickey with more force than he expected. He hugged her back, too.

“I knew he’d make it if we were strong for him,” she whispered to him, and a smile spread across her face. Mickey easily returned the smile. He couldn’t help but smile when Skylar was in such a good mood.

At this point they knew things were going to be alright, and Skylar and Mandy switched their positions. Mandy sat with Mickey, while Skylar sat behind Lip and played with his hair. Mandy held onto her brother’s arm, letting herself curl into his warmth like she used to when they were kids. Mickey wouldn’t admit it to her because of the sentiment involved, but he rather enjoyed the nostalgia of Mandy on his arm, too.

Skylar and Lip decided conversation about things other than Ian were okay now that they knew he would pull through.

“He looks really sorry, doesn’t he?” Lip whispered, referring to Mickey. He watched as Mickey and Mandy talked about whatever they were talking about, not paying attention to the actual words they were saying but taking in their body language. It was super similar to Fiona with any of the siblings.

“He looks it, and I know he is. We got to talking. Not much, but enough. He really loves Ian, ya know? I knew he did from the beginning, but you never know how much until something like this happens,” Skylar whispered back. She knew how Mickey felt, too, but not at the same level. She loved Ian, but not like Mickey did. Mickey loved Ian more than she loved her mom, as far as she could tell.

“I know. I didn’t believe it at first. Ian said he was the one. I thought it was total fucking bullshit,” Lip replied. “But seeing them these past few weeks, and seeing Mickey now… I should never have doubted Ian.”

Debbie joined Sky and Lip soon after Lip had stopped talking, and she rested her head in Lip’s lap.

“What’s the matter, Debs?” Lip asked, brushing his hand through her hair.

“Are you sure Ian is going to be okay? Are the doctors sure? He was shot, Lip,” she said, but didn’t cry. She had cried as much as she could, and now she just had a seemingly permanent sadness in her eyes.

“He’ll be fine. A spleen isn’t necessary for survival. And he’s tough,” Lip confirmed.

“Okay. I believe you. When will be able to see him?” she asked.

“Soon, hopefully,” he said.

Soon after, his conversation with her, Lip gently moved Debs from his lap and left her to be comforted by Skylar. Lip joined Fiona on the other side of the waiting room. Fiona was sitting on a chair near the hospital windows, her back facing the rest of the room, staring into the view they had from the sixth floor of Mercy. Lip sat with his back to the window, facing the rest of the room but more specifically Fiona.

“You can’t blame him, you know,” Lip said, snapping Fiona out of her trance.

“What? Who?” She asked, still dazed from whatever she was thinking about only seconds before.

“Mickey. I saw the way you looked at him whenever you had to look in that direction the past few hours. I saw contempt. Shit, Fiona, you realize it’s not his fault, right?” he said, bringing her all the way back to reality.

“I know. I don’t blame him, not much. But I can’t help thinking about the fact that if Ian wasn’t in love with Mickey, he wouldn’t be in the situation. Ya know?” Fiona pondered, drifting again. After the phone calls she made and taking care of everyone else, she hadn’t had much time to think for herself while Ian was in surgery until then.

“Maybe he would, Fi. We don’t know. He could have gotten involved with any guy in this neighborhood and could have been in the exact same position. Shootings happen every other day for stupid reasons. You can’t blame him. Mickey is just as in love with Ian as Ian is with him. You see that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know. I do. It’s just, it’s hard. We didn’t even know if he was going to live,” she started, then stopped.

“But we know now. And Ian will be fine and on his feet in no time. And now he has a battle scar that he can tell people he got in Afghanistan or some shit,” Lip smiled. The words were what Fiona needed to hear to cheer up, and she smiled back.

“I just hope they catch the fucker that shot Ian,” Fiona said, and Lip nodded in agreement.

“Mickey apparently gave a brief description before we got down there, and he can give a better one when he’s ready. Or Mandy can. Anyway, they already have people looking for him I guess,” Lip assured her. She nodded as Lip got up to hug her. She accepted the hug gratefully. “He’ll be okay and they’ll catch the douche that shot him.”

An hour or so after their conversations, the same nurse came back out to give them more news.

“Ian is patched up and in recovery, now. The doctors are confident he will recover easily and quickly,” she said, smiling as she delivered the news. “He’s stable, but he’s sleeping off the anesthesia. You folks should head home and come back tomorrow to see him. We can call you if he wakes up before you get here, but I’m sure he’ll be out most of tomorrow, too. So go home and get a few hours, yeah?”

“Thanks,” Fiona smiled back at her, relieved at the good news.

The gang packed up to leave right after the nurse left. Fiona took Debbie, Carl, and Liam home right away so they could sleep, clean up, and deal with bill payment options. Lip, Mandy, Mickey, and Skylar lingered for a while. Mickey and Skylar insisted that they would stay, not wanting to miss it if Ian wakes up.

“No, really. We’re fine here, we’ll keep each other company,” Skylar argued as Lip tried to convince her to come with him and Mandy.

“We’re good, guys,” Mickey added.

“See? We’ll be fine. Just bring me clean clothes or something. We’re basically the same size, I don’t care if it’s not a perfect fit,” Skylar was practically at the point of pushing them into the elevator and hitting the button for the ground floor for them.

“And Mandy, you can bring me some of my clothes if you want to but I can wear this, too,” Mickey said.

“Mick, you’re all bloody still. You need to shower and change,” Mandy assessed, taking in the state of Mickey.

“I can wash up in the bathroom and change if you bring me clothes,” he pointed out.

“Fine,” Mandy huffed, ready to leave. Lip was done conversing with Skylar soon after, and they left both mad that the other two wouldn’t come with them.

“Want to try to sleep?” Skylar asked, gesturing to the very uncomfortable hospital chairs they’d spent the last several hours in.

“Yeah, but maybe not on the chairs. I’ll take the floor,” he replied, laying down and curling up towards the corner of the waiting room. Skylar joined him on the floor, totally ignoring Mickey’s personal space and swinging an arm around him. Mickey tensed at her touch at first, not used to anyone but Ian being that intimate with him. He relaxed, though, when he realized she needed his comfort as much as he needed hers.

**They laid in silence until they both fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s friendly warmth.**


	21. Still not awake?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this up! Enjoy!

Skylar woke up to a pile of various outfits that were clearly Mandy’s next to her head, and noticed that a similar pile of Mickey’s clothes were next to Mickey’s head. She gently shook Mickey to wake him up, and he kicked awake. He had forgotten where he was for a second, but realization came to him quickly as he relaxed.

“Hey, sleeping beauty. There’s clothes for us, multiple outfits. Mandy must not have been able to decide what to bring,” Skylar said, hand still resting on Mickey’s shoulder. He groaned in response, dead tired from sleeping on the floor and having been up so late worrying about Ian. At least the sleeping had killed time. “Get yourself washed up and changed and we can see if Ian is awake.”

Mickey mumbled something incoherent in agreement and grabbed an outfit from the small mountain of clothes Mandy had brought and stumbled his way into the men’s bathroom at the end of the hall. On the walk down the hallway he wondered why the men’s bathroom was at the end of the hallway when the women’s was right next to the waiting room, but ended up giving up on figuring it out and instead just grunted in defeat.

In the bathroom Mickey took his time washing up, figuring that no matter how long he took, Skylar would always take longer. His shirt came off first, pulled over his head in one swift movement. He gently washed the blood away from his hands, watching the red run down the drain little by little. He winced when he remembered that it wasn’t his own; it was Ian’s, and he couldn’t get the thought out of his head.

The blood that had gotten on him didn’t really hit his bottom half, but he changed into new boxers and jeans since wearing the other pairs were just reminders of what had happened less than twenty-four hours earlier. He had to get out of them before continuing to cleanse himself. After that, he scrubbed the dried blood that had his his neck and arms. Some of it had gotten stuck because of the hair on his arms, and trying to scrub it off just frustrated him.

Eventually he got it all off, then looked in the mirror. He sort of looked like blood splashed in his face, when in reality he had wiped the blood onto his face when he was trying to keep himself from crying. He looked really fucking rough, and he knew he had looked worse last night. He just _knew_. He cupped his hands and splashed water in his face in attempt to get the red off. When that didn’t work, he scrubbed with paper towel. He dried himself off with paper towel, then made sure all the blood was off the counter before slipping a clean shirt on and splashing water on his face one last time as a refresher. _Better_ , he thought.

When he got back to the waiting room, Skylar was sitting in one of the chairs looking fierce as ever. She had tossed her dirty clothes into the pile of Mandy’s clean clothes and was now wearing clothes that Mickey definitely recognized as Mandy’s. A pair of dark skinny jeans and an off-the-shoulder sweater with some horrific creature on the front of it that Mickey couldn’t decide whether it was a cat or a skull. It was definitely something Mickey wouldn’t mind never seeing again if Skylar decided she wanted to keep it, and she seemed to like it.

“Took you long enough, slowpoke,” Skylar said, standing up to meet Mickey.

“Sorry, thought you’d take longer,” he mumbled in reply.

“It’s fine, let’s see if we can see Ian,” she said enthusiastically, immediately approaching the nurse that came from Ian’s direction who was about to enter another room. “Hey, can we see Ian Gallagher? Which room is he in?”

“He’s still sleeping, and he has visitors already, but he’s in room 624. Towards the end of the hall. Moved him in there for the time being after the surgery,” the nurse said sweetly, pointing them in the direction of the room.

Skylar rushed to get to the room and dragged a reluctant Mickey alongside her. He wanted to see Ian, but not when his whole family was in there. He followed Skylar, though, because he was sort of afraid of her. She could be really persuasive.

The first thing they saw as they entered the room was a gaggle of Gallaghers clustered around Ian’s bed. Fiona stood on the side by the window next to Ian holding his hand while Lip stood exactly opposite her watching over Ian. The rest of the siblings, along with Mandy, sort of filled in between the two around the bed.

The room was full of chatter, the Gallaghers all talking to each other and occasionally directing the conversation to Ian who was still in a semi-induced coma. Skylar joined the bedside while Mickey leaned against the wall near the door. There were two beds in the room, but one was unoccupied and Fiona had set Liam on it to play with some things she’d brought along. The curtain was all the way open between the beds, so standing farther away didn’t mean he couldn’t see Ian still. That made being in the room a bit easier, because standing around the bed with Ian’s family would have made him more than uncomfortable.

When Mandy realized Mickey was in the room she joined him.

“You need to tell him how you feel,” Mandy said quietly, not quite a whisper because it needed to be loud enough for Mickey to hear over the Gallaghers.

“The fuck do you mean by that?” Mickey spat back, hushed.

“Don’t fucking play with me, Mickey. You know exactly what I mean. Tell him,” Mandy ordered, giving Mickey a staredown that showed him she meant business.

“How the fuck am I supposed to, though? His whole family is here and he’s still passed out from the shit they gave him for surgery,” Mickey objected.

“I don’t know, asshole. Wait for his family to leave and just tell him even if he’s asleep. I know you need to get it off your chest more than you let on, and he needs to hear it whether he’s conscious or not,” Mandy says, leaning against the wall next to Mickey, knowing that she had won that argument.

Shortly after Mandy settled in next to Mickey, a nurse came in to update them on Ian’s situation.

“You know, he probably won’t wake up until much later in the afternoon. We weren’t sure about how he took to the meds but he seems to be taking a while to wake up. Someone can call you as soon as he wakes up if you guys want to go home,” a pale woman in scrubs notified them.

“Sure. I actually have some stuff to get done at home,” Fiona said and grabbed her bag and light jacket from the chair she’d set it on.

“I’ll come with you, I can watch Liam while you deal with the insurance shit,” Lip added, grabbing Liam from the other hospital bed and sort of trudging along behind Fiona with Mandy by his side. Debbie and Carl quickly followed suit, and Fiona turned around quickly to thank the nurse before leading the clan to the elevators. Skylar followed the gang out and caught up with them to let them know she would assist them in any way possible. Mandy grabbed Mickey’s shoulder before she left and whispered into his ear.

“Tell him.”

“Do you want to go, too, sir?” the nurse said, directing conversation towards Mickey.

“No, I’d just like to stay with him for a little bit,” Mickey said, soft yet intimidating.

“Alright, suit yourself,” she said, then left in a hurry.

Mickey approached the bed awkwardly, not quite sure where he should sit or what he should do. He settled on taking the chair from near the window and bringing it next to the bed. His hand found Ian’s easier than he would have expected, and their ring and pinky fingers aligned in the way they did so frequently nowadays. It was something that had started because they were afraid to show themselves, but now it happened out of affection. It was just something they did, and Mickey loved it although he’d never tell Ian he was into that sentimental shit. That was one thing that would be kept a secret no matter what happened.

“Hey, Ian,” Mickey said, feeling totally awkward about everything that was happening at that moment. He sat there, in awe with how peaceful Ian seemed despite the pain he would be in if he was awake. He scooted himself up towards Ian’s head and made sure he could talk at a volume that wouldn’t be completely embarrassing.

He stayed in the same position for a while, not moving in the slightest, hoping that Ian would suddenly wake up and be able to talk to him so that he didn’t have to be the one to start the one-sided conversation. Nothing changed about the situation, so he continued talking even though he didn’t feel right about it.

“It’s all my fucking fault, Ian. I know it is,” Mickey whispered into the silence. “I’m so fucking sorry that you’re in here. It should have been me. Actually, it should have been that fucker Vinnie. Fucking prick.”

“I didn’t want you to be there. I didn’t tell you where I was for a reason. I did it at that time because I knew you’d be at work. I shouldn’t have let anyone overhear me. I know it’s fucking pathetic to be talking to you and telling you all of this while you’re asleep instead of when you’re awake but I don’t know if I’ll be able to tell you when you’re awake so I’m saying it now. I know that if I hadn’t looked away you wouldn’t have gotten hurt and I’m so sorry for that. I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am.”

Mickey continued to sit there in the quiet while he waited for any type of sign that Ian had heard what he had said. Still, nothing. Water welled in the corner of one eye as he spoke, losing faith that any of what he said mattered or that Ian was even going to wake up.

“Maybe we are written in the stars, or whatever that bullshit was that Mandy was spewing. Maybe we’re supposed to be together and you’re supposed to get better and all this was just to test us or something. Maybe it was supposed to bring us closer, I don’t fucking know. Damn it, Ian.”

As Mickey said something about stars, Skylar walked into the room slyly. She saw that Mickey was sitting next to Ian and didn’t want to disturb, so she tried to be as careful as possible. When she knew that whatever he was saying was important, she decided to reopen the door and close it so that Mickey would realize she was in the room and not feel weird if he noticed her later. At this point, Mickey had tears running down his cheeks and he felt worse about the whole thing than he had when he first entered the room.

“Still not awake yet?” Skylar asked in a normal voice - much louder than Mickey’s whispering had been a minute before.

“No, not yet,” Mickey said, sniffling a bit before before wiping his eyes and trying to put on a tough front for Skylar. She could see right through it, though, and she felt really bad for what Mickey was going through even though she’d known Ian longer.

“Oh, honey,” Skylar said, her words filled with sympathy. She joined Mickey on his chair, relaxing into his lap like she would for Ian. Mickey tensed at the touch, unsure of what exactly to think of it at the time being. He wasn’t sure if he was okay with it. After a minute he realized what was happening and relaxed into her touch. For some reason, he felt comfortable with her there. It was oddly comforting for her to do to him what he’d seen done to Ian so many times. It was a way to relax in the most uncomfortable or stressful situations, and he felt something trustworthy in Skylar. He wasn’t sure why he trusted her, but it was probably because Ian trusted her and he trusted Ian more than anyone.

“It’s all my fault,” Mickey says after a while, obviously having thought about what he was going to say. “It’s all my fucking fault he got shot. I knew it was too good to be true.”

“It’s not your fault, Mick,” Skylar said, running her hand through Mickey’s hair to comfort him, which he surprisingly didn’t reject. “But wait, what’s too good to be true?”

“Having someone like Ian in my life,” Mickey explained. He had no idea why he was telling her shit like that when he wouldn’t even tell Mandy that shit. _She would make a good psychologist_ , he thought. A few teardrops formed in his eyes again, but he closed his eyes tightly to keep them from falling.

“It’s all going to be okay, though. The doctors say he’s fine. He just needs time to heal, and he has all the time in the world for that, right?” Skylar assured Mickey. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and rubbed his back to comfort him, which seemed to help him calm down. She pulled him into her chest and he let tears flow openly into the ugly cat-skull sweater, behind the cover of another person. He cried very little and very quietly, but it happened and Skylar supported Mickey to the best of her ability.

“Besides, he loves you. He was probably happy that it was him that got shot and not you. But you can’t feel guilty about that either, and I’m sure he knows you are blaming yourself for this. He doesn’t regret what happened, I know it. Gallaghers rarely have regrets. If you love him, you won’t feel guilty. Because I’m sure as all hell he won’t be feeling sorry for himself.”

**“Thanks, Skylar,” Mickey said, pulling himself together after a few minutes. Skylar wiped the tears from Mickey’s eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to cheer him up so that he wouldn’t feel so down even when everything seemed like it couldn’t get better.**


	22. Together

“You know, you’re kinda cute when you’re all emotional,” Skylar said to Mickey when he’d calmed down a bit.

“Fuck off,” he replied, wiping the tears from his eyes and trying to push her off his lap. She held her position and didn’t budge.

“It’s true, though,” she added, smiling at Mickey’s repulsion by the word ‘cute’.

“Milkoviches don’t do ‘cute’,” Mickey pointed out, frustrated with Skylar’s persistence.

“They do in my book,” Ian mumbled, groggy from the medication they had given him. He had finally woken up. He moved an arm up to rub his eyes, and when that arm stopped because of the IVs he switched the to the other arm and rubbed at his face.

“Oh, honey! You’re up!” Skylar exclaimed, jumping up from Mickey’s lap and kissing Ian on the cheek gently. She took his hand in her hand and made a big deal about squealing over him. “It’s about time!”

“I wouldn’t say I’m up,” Ian slurred through his tiredness. “But I’m awake.”

He laughed and Skylar laughed along with Mickey sort of chuckling in the background. Mickey always enjoyed how sassy those two were, especially when they were together. Ian winced in pain.

“Yeah, remind me not to laugh,” Ian added after the pain settled.

“I’m going to make sure you laugh, actually,” Skylar started. “It’ll get you back for when I got my wisdom teeth out in seventh grade and you put clear pop rocks in my mashed potatoes. I will never forgive you for that, by the way. No matter how wounded you are. I still remember that pain like it was yesterday.”

Ian laughed at the memory and winced in pain again, but this time it was definitely worth it. He couldn’t even imagine the pain he’d put Skylar through, but it was still hilarious to him. He sort of deserved whatever she threw at him.

“Thanks, Sky. Thanks both of you. For being here,” Ian said sincerely, smiling sleepily at both of them. Mickey practically swooned at how adorable Ian was even when he was in the hospital and wounded. Fuck, he’d fallen hard. He knew he had, and there was no going back now. Ian had fallen right away, but it only just hit Mickey how truly in love with Ian he was.

“Where’s my family?” Ian asked after a moment of silence.

“You’ve been out for a while. They went home to deal with paperwork and insurance shit. Someone’s supposed to call them when you wake up, so I’ll go do that,” Skylar smirked, winking at Ian as she said it. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.”

As Skylar left, Mickey mumbled something incoherent that was probably along the lines of ‘fuck off’. Ian just smiled at Mickey. In the midst of everything that happened, Ian couldn’t help but smile when Mickey was around. Ian’s smile was contagious, and it took everything in Mickey to not reciprocate the gesture. He couldn’t let himself smile when he still felt so guilty about everything.

Ian wiggled his fingers to suggest that Mickey hold his hand, so Mickey did just that. Their pinkies and ring fingers clasped on to one another and Ian sighed contently.

“I’m really fucking sorry for all of this,” Mickey said, breaking the silence. “You can blame me if you want to.”

“I’m sure Skylar already gave you the ‘stop blaming yourself’ speech, so I don’t have to go through it, do I?” Ian sighed, having already known Mickey would be blaming himself despite everyone - including Ian himself - telling him not to. “I don’t know if I can do it when I’m this heavily medicated.”

“She did, but that doesn’t mean you can’t blame me,” Mickey clarified. “You can’t blame yourself for any of what happened, though. That’s what I meant. Just blame someone else. You have enough shit to deal with.”

“It’s fine, really. Living in the South Side, it was bound to happen sooner or later. I’d rather it be sooner so I have the strength and willpower to heal properly,” Ian explained.

Hearing this, Mickey was overwhelmed with relief. All he was worried about was that Ian was going to blame himself, and now that he knew he didn’t, it was all okay. He breathed a sigh of relief and stood up from his chair while he still had adrenaline and courage.

In one swift motion, Mickey was cradling Ian’s head and kissing him with love and passion that they hadn’t experienced fully and openly before. To Mickey, it was new and exciting - like their first kiss had been - but it was also so familiar and comforting to kiss Ian. The love between them was incomparable to anything he’d ever experienced before, and he didn’t want to let it go. Ever.

\-------

 

When Ian woke up, he didn’t know who he expected to see in the room. Definitely Skylar, but he was surprised that Mickey was there. Not like he thought Mickey didn’t care about him, but he expected that Mickey wouldn’t want to be seen waiting for him to wake up because then people might know about them and Mickey was always so cautious about that.

So when he woke up to see his best friend and his boyfriend (for lack of a better term, because they never really clarified that) sitting next to his bed, together, it was the best surprise in the world. Not only that, but they were bonding. Ian’s injury had acquainted them more than before, and that was wonderful. Ian was a bit jealous, though.

It took him a while to make out words through the medicated haze he was in, but he eventually heard “Milkoviches don’t do cute”, a phrase he had to deny, because Mickey and Mandy were fucking adorable.

“They do in my book,” Ian forced out. It took some willpower for him to begin speaking, but eventually he mumbled something coherent out.

After some conversation with Mickey, Ian found himself flung into an alert state when Mickey kissed him. Right in the open, in the hospital room, where people could see.

Nothing could compare to what he felt in that moment. He felt Mickey’s love even though Mickey had never said it. He felt a bond between them that no word in any language could describe. The moment made him think back to the first time they kissed at the frat party. It really was love at first kiss, even if it hadn’t been as obvious to Mickey as it had been to him.

Mickey grabbed the back of Ian’s neck and pushed their lips together in a way that felt desperate and needy, yet caring and passionate. Ian would have helped more if he could, but he was sort of confined to the little movement he had on the bed. The kiss took away all thoughts of pain, and Mickey was very careful not to go near the wound. The arm of Ian’s that was free from IVs found Mickey’s waist and brought them closer together.

Ian felt Mickey relax more under his touch, and everything seemed to be closing in on them. The world consisted only of them in that moment, and Ian savored it. He kissed Mickey back eagerly, and they lingered a little longer than necessary on each kiss. It was gentle, not rough. There was no sexual tension to be resolved, no waiting for it to be more. They were content - despite their awkward position - to just kiss each other slowly and passionately.

****  
  


\-------

Mickey would have kissed Ian forever. Literally. He would have been satisfied if the rest of his life only consisted of kissing Ian. The realization didn’t come easily or quickly or smoothly, but kissing Ian in that hospital on that day was when it hit him. He had always loved Ian, and he always would in some way or another. Even if it didn’t work out, he would always love Ian. Ian fucking Gallagher would always be the first person he ever really loved.

That discovery was new and terrifying and Mickey wasn’t sure what was to come of it. He’d never loved anyone before Ian, and who knows if he’d love anyone after - or if he’d even need to. As ridiculous as it had sounded to him before, maybe he and Ian _were_ written in the stars or whatever that shit Mandy had said was. Maybe it was fate.

Shortly after Mickey had met Ian, he’d told Mandy that she was the only one he trusted. That she was the only one that he’d tell things to. It wasn’t true, not anymore. He trusted Ian more than he trusted Mandy, now. In ways that he couldn’t trust Mandy. Now, he trusted and cared about Ian. And that wasn’t going to change. All Mickey wanted to do was take care of Ian and make sure he was safe and protected, and he even found himself hoping that Ian felt the same about him.

These thoughts flew through his brain while he kissed Ian, but a lot of it was more jumbled than he thought possible. Ian Gallagher messed him up, a lot more than he would like to admit. Ian made him do things he never would have done before and be someone he never thought he could be.

The thought made him pull away from Ian for a second, and when they opened their eyes they saw that they were both grinning like complete idiots. The smiles on each other’s faces just made them smile wider and goofier.

“So does this mean we’re boyfriends now?” Ian asked, looking into Mickey’s eyes. Now that he felt like he was allowed to look for longer than a normal person, Ian noticed that Mickey’s eyes reminded him of vast lakes and oceans. He would have launched into a Shakespearean sonnet about Mickey’s eyes in his head if Mickey’s words hadn’t interrupted his thoughts.

Mickey interlocked all of their fingers before he spoke, making sure Ian knew he meant what he was about to say. What he said next he said with such pride that Ian would never doubt it.

“Of course we are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of the regular fic, but keep an eye out for the epilogue! I hope you enjoyed the story!


	23. Epilogue

The end of August rolled around and not much had changed since the day at the hospital. Well, in all actuality everything changed, but it was all so smooth that nobody even noticed. Ian got out of the hospital, started the rehab the hospital had so graciously provided to him for free, and all was well with him and Mickey.

Things were much more complicated but just as well with Skylar, Mandy, and Lip. Despite the fact that none of them had ever experienced anything like their current relationship, it was going smoothly and seemed to be better for them all. Skylar had never thought she’d like being with a girl, but she liked being with Mandy just as much as she liked being with Lip, and Mandy could completely agree. Lip obviously didn’t care. The sex was different, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t experienced weirder things.

The five of them sat around the living room on one particular day, relaxing in the company of about ten different portable fans that they had brought and scattered throughout the room. Mickey sat at one end of the couch while Ian lounged along the length of it, feet resting on Mickey’s lap. Ian wasn’t fully recovered yet, but he was well enough and lively. Mickey was tracing the bottoms of Ian’s feet with his thumb, and every once in a while Ian would twitch because the motion tickled so much. Sometimes Mickey would do it on purpose and snicker hysterically every time it pulled a reaction from Ian.

Mandy and Lip were sprawled out on the floor, taking in any cool air they could get. Skylar was sitting on the chair next to the couch, bantering with Mickey.

“Okay, but what about Bran?” Mickey asked, referring to the Game of Thrones finale that Skylar had been going on about for fifteen minutes already.

“Literally not even important. No one gives a fuck about Bran,” Skylar stated, like it was stupid question and the answer was clear.

“I give a fuck about Bran. I want to know the meaning behind his whole stupid-ass storyline,” Mickey argued, giving Skylar a look that meant business.

“You do not give a fuck about Bran, you’re just trying to make a point. All anyone cared about was his friends, but they’re dead now so why even bother. The only reason I didn’t skip the Bran parts this season was because of Hodor,” Skylar said matter-of-factly. “But let’s talk about the real story here… Arya and the Hound.”

“First we talk Lannisters. Tyrion is a badass and you can’t even deny it after the shit with Tywin.”

“Not gonna deny that one. I’d be fucking joyous if I were in Sansa’s position with the whole marrying-of-Tyrion thing.”

“But Jaime is fucking iffy. I want to like him but that whole thing with Cersei reminds me of Vinnie… sick fuck. I’m so fucking glad Vinnie’s ass got sent to the can. Damn him, and damn Jaime Lannister,” Mickey said, monotonous when talking about one of the few people he truly hated in the world - Vinnie, obviously. Ian cringed at the mention but things went back to normal pretty quickly.

“Amen to that. Now let’s talk Arya.”

Skylar and Mickey were spewing words that Ian couldn’t even begin to understand. When they had all sat down to watch it together, Ian didn’t understand any of it. They had told him that it gets better as you went on, but he didn’t feel like it was even worth a try.

He laughed at things around him, awkwardly and randomly most times. People didn’t really notice, but he enjoyed feeling like he was part of the conversation even though he didn’t even understand half of it.

“Wait, isn’t Arya the queen or something?” Ian tried to add into the conversation, but Mickey just chuckled at how little Ian knew about the show.

“No, honey,” Skylar said, baby-talking Ian. She knew he hated it, but at this point in the conversation it was just funny as hell. “Daenerys is a Khaleesi, not a queen. Cersei thinks she’s the queen but everyone hates her. Technically Joffrey was the king but everyone hated him. He was supposed to marry Margaery but that never really happened because he kinda sort died. Basically there is no queen.”

Ian’s look grew more and more confused as her explanation went on, and Mickey couldn’t help but laugh. Game of Thrones was the one thing Mickey would always understand better than Ian.

“I’m going to pretend I understood who those people are and we can move on in this conversation,” Ian huffed in frustration, but a smile creeped out when Mickey tickled his foot again.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be poking your nose in places it doesn’t belong,” Mickey teased, triggering Ian’s playfulness. Ian laughed and kicked Mickey gently in the side.

“Fuck you,” Ian teased back.

“No, fuck you,” Mickey replied, grabbing both of Ian’s feet in his arms and tickling them simultaneously. Ian laughed and wriggled a little bit, which made him wince in pain and draw in a deep breath.

“Shit, stop,” Ian pleaded, half laughing and half serious. “Mickey, stop.”

Mickey stopped as soon as he saw the pain Ian was in, and everyone brought their attention to Ian as he sat up and readjusted himself on the couch.

“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” Mickey said, reaching out to Ian’s hand for reassurance that everything was alright. Ian grabbed Mickey’s hand and squeezed.

“Yeah, fine,” Ian confirmed, and everyone let out a sigh of relief. “Acts up every once in a while.”

The banter returned quickly and easily, but soon Mandy got up from her position next to Lip and left their conversation. She pulled Skylar out of her chair and kissed her gently and deeply, and it took everything in Mickey not to throw up. Not because it was two girls, but because his sister was such a show-off. When she caught something she liked, she would go out of her way to put it on display. Especially if that something was a gorgeous girl like Skylar, and especially if she could display it right in front of her brother.

Mickey was almost tempted to kiss Ian, too, but figured he’d let her win this silent argument. Instead he grabbed a hold of Ian’s hand and intertwined their fingers in a way that was painstakingly obvious to anyone who even glanced in their general direction, but that was just the way he wanted it. He was going to show off too, damn it. He’d won the best prize of his life with Ian, and he’d display it for as long as it lasted.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Skylar said as she pulled herself away from Mandy. They clasped hands and pulled Lip off the floor and made their way upstairs. Neither Ian nor Mickey wanted to know what went on with those three.

“Guess that’s our cue,” Ian said, smirking then practically tackling Mickey. He straddled Mickey on the couch, fists balled into his shirt, and kissed him. They shared breath for the better half of five minutes, hands exploring each other like they had never touched before even though it was not even close to a new thing for them. It’d been a while since they’d had sex, but that was mostly because Ian’s recovery didn’t allow it. That day Ian had finally gotten the okay for more rigorous physical activity. In most cases that would mean things like running or lifting heavier things, but clearly that is not what he had in mind.

Mickey’s hand ran over Ian’s right hip, trying to pull Ian closer to him than he already was. His other hand made its way to Ian’s left side, and when it crept up to the scar, Ian pulled away a little.

“You okay?” Mickey asked, searching Ian’s face for any semblance of what might be the problem.

“Fine. Just, don’t,” Ian said, pulling Mickey’s hand gently away from the area where the scar was.

“It’s okay to let me see it, Ian,” Mickey reassured him, putting his hand back on the scar. “Usually I’m the one who won’t let you see things.”

“I know, it’s just…” Ian trailed off.

“Hey, look at me,” Mickey said. Ian looked into Mickey’s eyes, because he knew whatever was said next would definitely be important. “I love you, and any scar or birthmark or flaw makes you more real, Ian.”

Mickey was surprised at how vulnerable he’d allowed himself to become, and in the course of a few months he had come a lot further than he knew he’d be able to. That moment was an important one, one he knew Ian would remember, and he knew he had to make it exactly right. He couldn’t believe he’d been the first to tell Ian he loved him, but he thought Ian needed to hear it more than he did.

Ian really did change him, but it seemed like it was for the better.

“Did you just say…” Ian said, not really asking but at the same time wanting to know the answer.

“I’m not fucking repeating it,” Mickey said defensively, reverting back to the Milkovich way for a minute. He tensed, but calmed right away. “But yeah.”

“I love you, too, Mickey,” Ian said, leaning down to kiss Mickey again. He slowly but surely grabbed Mickey’s hand and placed it over his scar, showing that not only did he love Mickey but he trusted him. Ian trusted Mickey more than anyone else and loved Mickey more than anyone else and letting him know all his flaws was going to be a process but he was willing to go along with that.

**If Mickey was willing to accept his flaws, maybe one day he could accept his own flaws and possibly even embrace them.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading to the end! You guys sticking with me is what helped me finish this! I hope you enjoyed the happily ever after for Ian and Mickey (: Maybe I'll write some more adventures of Mickey and Sky if there's interest, I feel like their friendship would blossom wonderfully. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks again! I'm glad you read all the way to the end!


End file.
